


It isn't so bad (to be stuck with you)

by pinkvelour, silvervelour



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Jealousy, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Smut, emotional sex on an uncomfortable couch, strangers to friends to enemies to lovers, strap ons, the state is in lockdown and these gals are stuck together in their apartment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkvelour/pseuds/pinkvelour, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour
Summary: “Guess we better get used to each other then, hey?”. Jackie’s mouth twists.Jan doesn’t want to. She shrugs her shoulders, attempts nonchalance, and picks up her glass of water for the final time. Jackie doesn’t watch the droplets falling from the edge this time. She chooses instead to narrow her eyes in Jan’s direction, before smiling. Jackie looks unsure, and Jan doesn’t mind the change if it means Jackie will stop being so nice, so irritatingly kind and friendly. Jan is tired and longs to sleep, prays that she’ll wake up to everything having been a dream.*New York is in lockdown, and Jan and Jackie are forced to spend time together after only having been roommates for two weeks.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport
Comments: 236
Kudos: 240





	1. day one

**Author's Note:**

> JAZ:
> 
> hi pals!! i’m back again! this one is different, and is the longest fic i’ve tackled since jicc, but i’m very in love with it! i wrote it with my favourite person in the world, aka holly, aka pinkvelour who finally made an ao3! she’s helped me with so many of my fics and i love her dearly, so i’m very glad she’s allowed me to make her a co-creator of this!! 
> 
> also a disclaimer; there’ll be no actual mentions of any illness etc etc because i want to keep this respectful and lighthearted and just a fun dykey time!! i hope you like it! let me know your thoughts lovelies <3
> 
> HOL:
> 
> Hi new friends ,  
> I’m Holly (aka pinkvelour). It’s both nerve wracking , and quite exciting to have something I helped work on be out for public comment and consumption. Please be kind , and I can’t wait to read any comments and questions people have . p.s I love Jaz so much and I’ve never felt more supported and valid in my ideas and creativity. Anyway , please enjoy xo

It’s sunny outside when it happens. 

Jan expects it like everybody else had, but it doesn’t make it any easier a pill to swallow. She’s wrapped up in her duvet that still smells faintly of her lavender fabric conditioner and has her laptop propped up on a fluffy scatter cushion. The screen of it flashes with alerts of a statewide lockdown and Jan has to slam the lid closed when the fan begins whirring, overheating, because she feels like she’s on the verge of doing the same. She shoves it off of the pillow, begins burning a hole through the ceiling with her glare. 

It feels like it’s going to cave in, fall and crush her. Her cotton sheets feel like they’re suffocating her too, as they cling to her skin that’s sweaty, scorching. The silk pillows beneath her head are forming a clump of damp hair at the base of her neck and Jan wishes that she was anywhere else. There are still cars passing outside, trucks honking, and Jan has never been more aware that she’s in the heart of New York City, in her own apartment with her own career and -

\- A roommate that she’s only known for two weeks. 

Because it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea at first. If anything, it had seemed like the solution to all of Jan’s problems. She’d been performing at a corporate function uptown when Bob had initially mentioned Jackie, and the spare room that she had in her apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. The rent was cheap and the space big enough for Jan not to question it, to jump at the opportunity. Herself and Jackie had met briefly over a coffee on a Monday and Jan had moved in by the following Tuesday because it had appeared fine, or _good_ , even. 

Jan only begins to think otherwise when delicate footprints pad across the hardwood floor outside her room, and it hits her that they barely know each other, don’t know each other at all. Jackie has been working as a television PA and it’s meant that they’ve rarely crossed paths during the day and even more infrequently stopped to converse with one another. Jan had thought it was the ideal situation, and thinks it still would be if it wasn’t for the news of a statewide lockdown that looms over her like the clouds that she’s able to see in the distance. 

The white painted wooden panels of her bedroom window frame them like a bad omen and she brings a hand to her face, presses it to her forehead with a groan. Her skin is still sweaty against her sheets and she kicks her legs feebly, attempts to shake herself of discomfort, annoyance. She’s able to hear the kitchen coming to life even with her head submerged in a sea of pillows, and lets out another groan that tails off into a grunt, this time. 

She swings her legs over the edge of her bed moments later and it’s then that hits her in its entirety. 

There’s no time to travel back to her family's home in Jersey, even if she were allowed to. She’s not able to up and leave to a friends place either; there’s no room for her at Roberta’s and Brianna’s apartment, and has neither the patience or the want to spend the coming weeks or months with either Rosé or Lagoona, no matter how much she adores them. They’re as close as sisters and argue like them too and Jan doesn’t want to lose all of her hair from the stress of it all at the age of twenty-five. 

She crosses her fingers that she won’t end up saying the same thing about Jackie. 

*****

Jan spends the following hours thinking. 

She also does nothing at all, but she mostly _thinks_ , from the comfort of her bed and the protection of her room. She almost falls into a restless sleep but the sluggish movements of the world outside keep her awake. There’s no noise from the restaurant across the street that she’s come to expect, but there is the screech of brakes of cars, trucks, and Jan thinks they’re louder than usual, somehow. 

It takes her ten minutes to realise that she hates the white walls, and another five to decide that she’s going to have to ask Jackie whether their lease allows them to decorate. She misses the powder blue walls of her last apartment that she’d shared with her friend Crystal, misses the collection of pictures that they’d hung in the living room throughout the years; Crystal had painted most of them and had left Jan with her favourite one before leaving for Callifornia. 

She still has it. Framed, this time. It’s a small piece, consisting of abstract blue markings on a neon yellow background. The frame she had chosen is red and it sits atop of her dresser on the other side of the room, providing the space with the colour that Jan has been missing. She smiles at it softly, lets her head fall back into a cavern of pillows. The silk cases beneath her head are still too warm but after an hour she feels more at ease, less ready to scream into her duvet. 

Jan wonders how long it will last.

*****

At seven in the evening, just as the sky is transforming from blue to lilac, Jan leaves her room. 

She carries her empty glass of water with her, intent on refilling it and attempting to make herself something to eat. The soles of her feet pad sluggishly against the cool surface of the original wood flooring of the corridor, each beam creaking as she leads herself into the kitchen. The light of the evening sky washes through the windows of the open plan apartment, illuminating each corner of what for the foreseeable future, was going to be her home.

Home doesn’t feel appropriate, yet, and she’s doubtful that it ever will. Home is warmth and familiarity, is comfort and welcoming arms, not a living room with an exposed brick wall in Hell’s Kitchen that’s packed too full to the brim with houseplants for her liking. They’re littered everywhere, on windowsills and the small bookshelf as well as the coffee table that Jan still hasn’t stopped managing to stub her toe on every time she rounds the corner to the couch. 

The space feels far too empty, despite verging on being cluttered. 

Jan knows that it’s because none of it is hers apart from a small pink orchid that she’s placed on one of the kitchen countertops, potted in purple porcelaine, and a yellow crocheted pillow that sits on the couch. Everything is Jackie’s, from the china mugs that she’s been using for her herbal tea for the past two weeks, to the books on the aforementioned shelf that range from Judith Butler to Paul Kalanithi. They’re battered and worn and show more signs of life than Jan’s own collection; she doesn’t know whether she’s envious or concerned but it’s a fact that she files away regardless. 

It’s something that she tells herself she’ll deal with another time, because Jackie is standing in the kitchen when she enters, stirring a pot on the stove. Jan clears her throat as if Jackie hasn’t already heard her set her glass down on the countertop, and steps past her cautiously. The apartment is open plan, but the setup of the kitchen is narrow and uncomfortable and it’s another thing that Jan doesn’t want to have to deal with. 

Jackie only looks up briefly, but she offers Jan a kind smile. The room is glowing orange and it makes Jackie’s usually dark hair appear golden, like sunlight. It flows down her back in waves, and as Jan brushes past her, she’s met with the smell of jasmine and lily, musky and intense. She breathes it in through her nostrils and has to exhale it in a cough, because Jackie is talking and Jan’s unable to focus. Jackie picks up the glass that Jan had set down on the opposite side of her, and slides it across to her with a tentative grin. Jan accepts it with a tightlipped smile and fills it from their sink tap. 

“Jan?”.

“ _Huh_?”. 

Jackie chuckles, steps back from the stove. She balances the wooden spoon on the edge of the pan and props her hip against the counter. Jan lets her glass spill over and only sets it back down when it’s flowing over the rim, dripping into her hand. Jackie’s eyes follow the trail that the droplets leave down her arm, and slowly travel back to her face. She looks as perplexed as Jan feels and Jan wants to be back in her own bed, her own space. She wants to be anywhere that Jackie isn’t. 

“Have you heard?”. Jackie asks. 

And it sounds like she’s said it before. Jackie’s arched eyebrow tells Jan that she has and she responds with a slow, noncommittal nod of her head. Jan wants to answer with a comment that’s biting and bitter, but thinks that it would be unkind. She almost scoffs that of course she’s heard, because so has the rest of the state, but they’re not at that level and never will be at that level of mutual understanding. Jan instead opts for taking a small sip of her glass of water and being as vague as she knows how. 

“Yeah, doesn’t feel real”. Jan breathes. 

The condensation of the tumbler makes it slippery in her grasp, and the tips of her fingers are left behind in prints when she sets it down once more. Jackie returns to stirring around the contents of the pan on the stove, hums affirmatively. Jan’s unable to grasp whether she’s interested in the conversation at hand or whether she’s merely making small talk but Jan decides that she doesn’t care either way. The room is getting darker with each word that stretches out like taffy and Jan’s mind is lightyears away. 

Jackie moves to switch off the stove and the air around them cools immediately. She dishes what looks and smells like chili into a bowl that already has rice in and places the empty pan into the sink. She fills it with warm water to soak and Jan observes her wordlessly, scrapes at her nail polish that’s already chipping on her thumbs. It falls to the floor like ash and Jan would chastise herself about etiquette and cleanliness but if Jackie isn’t bothered then she isn’t either; Jackie’s already moving to brew herself a cup of tea and Jan busies herself with digging out a bag of chips from one of the cupboards. 

“Are you staying here?-”. Jackie voices. 

The whistle of the kettle serves as background noise and Jan peers over her shoulder. 

“-Or are you going to stay with friends or family or..”. 

Jackie trails off, her voice timid, and gestures loosely with her hands. Jan brushes her off with a shake of her head and settles on a bag of salt and vinegar Lays. Jackie pours the water from the kettle into a mug that’s painted in stripes of deep green and black with a grimace, and Jan lets herself smile faintly for the first time. Jackie’s eyes are locked on the blue packet in Jan’s hands and Jan waits patiently for the comment about her taste in chips that doesn’t come. 

They both stay silent as orange turns to navy and Jackie reaches wordlessly for the lightswitch. The room is bathed in fluorescence and Jan feels too exposed, too seen. She cowers in the corner next to the refrigerator as Jackie turns to look at her with eyes that are wide yet tired, all knowing yet unaware, and pops open the chips with a rustle of plastic. Jackie’s nose scrunches at Jan’s first bite and if Jan crunches louder just because she _can_ and she _wants to_ then it’s not something that she’s going to admit to herself. 

“Guess we better get used to each other then, hey?”. Jackie’s mouth twists. 

Jan doesn’t want to. She shrugs her shoulders, attempts nonchalance, and picks up her glass of water for the final time. Jackie doesn’t watch the droplets falling from the edge this time. She chooses instead to narrow her eyes in Jan’s direction, before smiling. Jackie looks unsure, and Jan doesn’t mind the change if it means Jackie will stop being so nice, so irritatingly kind and _friendly_. Jan is tired and longs to sleep, prays that she’ll wake up to everything having been a dream. 

Or a nightmare. 

Jackie removes the teabag from her cup, sighs quietly. 

“Sorry, I’ll give you some space”. She smiles. 

Jackie’s leaving the kitchen, then, retreating to her bedroom and leaving a waft of chamomile in her wake. Jan watches her go, stands stoic in the small expanse of the kitchen and stares down her orchid that’s already wilting. Jackie has gone and the sunlight has too, and Jan makes a point of switching off the overhead light on her way out. It’s been switched back on when she emerges from her room again hours later but Jan says nothing. 

And she plans to keep it that way. 


	2. day five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon-”. Jackie encourages. 
> 
> “-Light up”. 
> 
> She passes the lighter to Jan, and when their knuckles brush Jan doesn’t pull away. She takes the lighter slowly, mumbles a breathy thanks before taking her first hit. The smoke gets drawn into her lungs, and she exhales it in relief with Jackie’s eyes on her. She watches the swirls of grey travel through the dark and into the light before it disperses into nothingness. Jan takes another two hits before handing the bong over to Jackie and by the time that she does so things don’t feel as awkward. 
> 
> Her body relaxes as much as it’s able to into the couch. It’s leather and tacky and sticks to her thighs, but her joints are loosening and muscles becoming less tense. Jan lets out a breath through her nose as Jackie takes three consecutive hits, and tilts her head backwards. It rests on the cushions of the couch and Jan’s head is swimming after ten minutes, smoke floating around the both of them. Another half an hour passes before she’s turning to Jackie, arms wrapped around her yellow crocheted pillow. Jackie looks back at her with a dopey grin as she reaches for the bong once more and Jan can’t help but mirror it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating 2 days in a row?? it could not be me
> 
> anyway, I wanted to get this one posted quickly because the intro ch was really short, and this ones super fun!! I hope you like it!!! this one would not have been possible without pink velour!! also, I will not be held responsible for any drug induced hair dyeing that occurs, and also also, a big thank you to charl for the constant support ! <3
> 
> let me know what you think lovelies!

They form a strange routine of avoidance. 

It becomes an unspoken agreement that they don’t use the kitchen at the same time, and listen out for the other to know when their shared bathroom will be vacant. Jackie takes the living room more often than Jan does and Jan thinks that she’s becoming a trained expert on the creaking of the floorboards that tell her where Jackie is, what she’s doing. 

She learns that Jackie visits the kitchen at seven in the evening, everyday like clockwork. She makes herself dinner and brews herself her usual cup of camomile tea and Jan’s always left breathing in the remnants of it. It drifts beneath the gap under her bedroom door and Jan doesn’t love it but she doesn’t hate it either and she’s coping better than she thought she would be at four days in. 

Jan also learns that Jackie wakes up early.  _ Too early _ . She showers as the sun is rising, painting their apartment amber, and Jan gets woken up by the pipes in the ceiling that chug to life with a shudder. Their building is old so it’s not surprising, but Jan wishes that Jackie would wait an hour, or two, or three. The birds start chirping when the water stops running and Jan forces herself to fall back into a restless slumber while Jackie potters around the kitchen, playing the radio at a volume that’s a handful of notches too loud. 

Until day five. 

Jackie showers a full hour and a half later than she has been, and it means that Jan wakes up on her own accord. She stares at the shadows being projected off of her bookshelf with nothing but silence in her ears and lets her body melt into the mattress. Her eyes land on the cover of _ Oranges Are Not the Only fruit _ as the birds sing their melodies and her hands palm the cotton of her sheets. She doesn’t feel too warm like she has done on mornings prior; her skin isn’t sweaty and her hair isn’t matted and there’s a smile on her face. 

It vanishes as quickly as it had appeared when Jackie’s door squeaks open and Jan marks it as the end of her peace for the day. It’s something that she wants to hate Jackie for, something that she’s tried and failed to loathe about her. Jan wants to be able to complain about everything and anything that Jackie does but finds herself unable to do so because Jackie is just,  _ nice _ . 

She smiles at Jan even when Jan doesn’t smile back at her, and offers her the space that Jan has needed without so much as a question. She’d gone out of her way to do enough grocery shopping for the both of them without Jan asking and had left a note on the countertop reassuring that Jan’s stash of salt and vinegar chips had been restocked. Jan had added to the note with only a short  _ thanks _ accompanied by a smiley face and still Jackie has continued to be  _ nice _ . 

Jan doesn’t understand it and she’s not keen to, either. 

She doesn’t know what to do with her days anymore. Her room feels like it’s the size of a shoebox and the living area isn’t much bigger. She’s rearranged her furniture twice already - moving the desk towards the window and shifting her bed to the opposite wall - and there’s only so many times she can go for short walks around the neighbourhood before she gets sick of the concrete sidewalks. She’d read her way through three books and has played more animal crossing on her switch than she cares to admit. It’s sat charging on her nightstand and she has to stop herself from picking it up because -

\- It’s not even nine in the morning yet. 

Jan knows realistically that there are more productive things that she could be doing. She’s been texting her friend Nicky back and forth about the possibility of offering online vocal lessons but isn’t ready to commit to anything that isn’t sleeping and eating and wasting her days away quite yet. It’s day five of who knows how many and Jan’s going to take it as a welcomed break, for now. 

She lifts herself out of bed moments later and the floorboards are cold beneath her feet. It’s a contrast to the warmth she feels in her bones when the sun beaming through the windows kisses at her skin, and when she pads over to her chest of drawers. They’re a soft pine, handles painted white, and Jan opens the top drawer with a chuckle. She sifts through the depths of it, past old notebooks and forgotten receipts, wraps her fingers around glass. 

Because there are more productive things that she could be doing, realistically, but getting high sounds fun and easy and calming and Jan wants it. She pulls the bong that she hasn’t used in weeks from the back of her drawer, one that’s lilac and glittery. It had been a Christmas gift from her friend Rosé back in college, and Jan lets herself laugh because her situation could be worse; Rosé is stuck sharing a one bedroom studio with her ex girlfriend Lagoona and it’s a fact that makes Jan feel more at ease. 

If only a little. 

She places the bong down on top of the drawers, shoves aside a woodwick candle so that neither of them topple. There’s a jewellery box on her desk that she keeps a small bag of pot in and she strides back across her room to retrieve it, slides it into the pocket of her oversized plaid shirt. Her toes are painted a pale blue and they’re bright against the dark floors as she leaves her bedroom, bong in hand. 

If she’s right then she’s got at least ten minutes before Jackie leaves the bathroom, heads to the kitchen for breakfast before escaping to her room once more. The shower has only just come to a halt, the pipes growing silent, and Jan enters the kitchen to the sight of the curtains still drawn closed and a sense of serenity that doesn’t last long. 

Because Jan is wrong. 

Jan is  _ very _ wrong. 

She’s running the cold tap - having a preference for the easy inhalation of the smoke - when the bathroom door opens with a groan. It bumps against the wall as it swings open slowly and Jan hears the thump from down the corridor, over the trickle of the water. There’s a voice humming the tune of  _ super trouper  _ and it belongs to Jackie, travelling closer and closer. Jan switches off the water and keeps her back turned to the happiness that enters the kitchen, focuses on not letting the glass of the bong slip in her hand. 

Jackie’s stepping easily into the kitchen and Jan’s sense of calm is flying out of the window. It plummets four stories to the ground below, lands amongst a bed of dandelions and becomes one with the wilting leaves. Jan turns her head over her shoulder in time to see Jackie’s eyes widen, her humming stopping abruptly. Her jaw hangs loose before tightening again, and then she’s recovering, beaming at Jan from across the kitchen. 

“Hey! Morning!”. Jackie greets. 

Jan stiffens, turns on her heel. She places the bong on the countertop next to the sink, wipes her damp hand off on her shirt. Jackie watches her, a smirk pulling at her lips, and frowns when Jan smiles. Jan combs her gaze through Jackie’s hair that’s been towel dried, sitting wet around her shoulders, and rakes her eyes over Jackie’s shirt. It’s dark and green and oversized, barely skims the tops of her thighs; Jan thinks briefly that she could blend in with their collection of cheese plants and snorts aloud, shakes her head to herself. 

“Morning”. Jan responds. 

“How’re you doing?”. 

“I’m-”. 

“ _ Wait- _ ”. Jackie interjects. 

She lifts a limp hand, points at the bong sat next to Jan. Jan follows her index finger that’s chipping with red nail polish and the small outline of a triangle tattooed in black on her wrist. Jackie arches an eyebrow, drops her hand to her side and takes a step forward. The smell of Jackie’s coconut shampoo is prominent in the air and it’s the closest that Jan’s going to get to a tropical vacation. She lets the fact settle in her gut and allows it to stay there. 

“-Are you filling a bong, before breakfast?”.

“Maybe-”. Jan shrugs. 

Jackie purses her lips, hums noncommittally. Jan pauses as Jackie moves around her, presses her hand gently to the small of Jan’s back as she reaches for a mug for her herbal tea. It’s hand painted with sunflowers and Jan shivers, straightens her posture. Jackie is smirking faintly to herself and Jan has to clear her throat, take a step backwards. 

“-Why, want some?”. She continues. 

Her hand slips into the pocket of her shirt, pulls out the small clear bag of pot. Jackie’s eyes hone in on it as she fills her mug with boiling water from the kettle and Jan waves it back and forth teasingly. Stirring the tea bag around, and then adding a spoonful of sugar, Jackie nods her head. 

And Jan almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s such a small movement, so microscopic that Jan knows she would have missed it if she wasn’t looking for it. Jackie nods again, slower and more recognisable than the first, and Jan’s unable to conceal the way that her eyes widen in surprise, or how her hand resting on the counter falters. It skids against the water she had spilt on the surface and Jan regrets ever opening her mouth. She hadn’t expected Jackie to respond, much less accept; it had been intended as a joke and Jan laughs openly, because Jackie either didn’t understand her social cues or understood them just fine and  _ chose _ to ignore them. 

Jan would be willing to place a bet on the latter. 

But still Jackie is being nice. 

She takes her mug of tea, having dumped the tea bag into the trash, and makes her way over to the couch. She sets the mug down atop of a copy of  _ Notes on a Nervous Planet _ and opts to open one curtain instead of two. The window that’s exposed bathes half of the room in light and keeps the other sheltered in the shadows. Jan walks through both until she’s meeting Jackie on the other side of the room, squinting against the sun with the bong tucked beneath her arm. 

Jackie makes herself comfortable on one side of the couch and Jan perches, uncertain on the other. The couch is old, small, and it means that there’s less than a foot between them but Jan will take anything that she’s given. The bong becomes a barrier and Jackie nods towards it as she scrolls through her phone, selects a playlist that Jan doesn’t care for. It emanates from the small speaker on the wooden bookshelf and Jackie is tapping her foot along to it by the time that the opening chords strum. 

“I didn’t know you smoked”. Jackie says easily. 

“Sometimes”. 

“Hmm”.

“I didn’t know you did, either”. Jan adds. 

“Sometimes”. Jackie echoes. 

A smirk returns to her face. Jan is beginning to think that it’s a permanent fixture, a sneer that will never fade, but then Jackie’s laughing. It breaks the smirk into shards and they scatter freely, reform into a grin that Jan claims for herself. She smiles back at Jackie - this time she means it - and prepares the bowl carefully. Jackie busies herself with reaching to the coffee table, picks up a red lighter that’s engraved with her initials, a cursive  _ JC _ . 

“C’mon-”. Jackie encourages. 

“-Light up”. 

She passes the lighter to Jan, and when their knuckles brush Jan doesn’t pull away. She takes the lighter slowly, mumbles a breathy  _ thanks _ before taking her first hit. The smoke gets drawn into her lungs, and she exhales it in relief with Jackie’s eyes on her. She watches the swirls of grey travel through the dark and into the light before it disperses into nothingness. Jan takes another two hits before handing the bong over to Jackie and by the time that she does so things don’t feel as awkward. 

Her body relaxes as much as it’s able to into the couch. It’s leather and tacky and sticks to her thighs, but her joints are loosening and muscles becoming less tense. Jan lets out a breath through her nose as Jackie takes three consecutive hits, and tilts her head backwards. It rests on the cushions of the couch and Jan’s head is swimming after ten minutes, smoke floating around the both of them. Another half an hour passes before she’s turning to Jackie, arms wrapped around her yellow crocheted pillow. Jackie looks back at her with a dopey grin as she reaches for the bong once more and Jan can’t help but mirror it. 

“This is pretty”. Jackie nods. 

One hand is wrapped around the body of the bong and the other points towards it vaguely. She gestures at the purple glass and the glitter speckled throughout and Jan’s huffing out a laugh through her nose, again. Jan licks across her lips, lets the pillow that she had been clutching fall to her side. Jackie drags her fingers across the corner of it and Jan is adopting Jackie’s smirk. 

“My strap on is exactly the same colour”. She deadpans. 

Jackie’s fingers cease, and Jan’s tone might be joking but the statement is true. She doesn’t know what poseses her to say it - whether it’s her smoke clouded mind or the easiness between them - but it makes Jackie cackle and Jan’s glad that it isn’t wasted. Jackie appears shocked but not entirely disbelieving and when her gaze locks with Jan’s she refuses to divert it. It strengthens, solidifies, and Jan is hooked. 

“You’re not joking are you?”. Jackie cocks her head. 

“Nope!”. 

“God-”. Jackie laughs

“-I’ve been so fucking  _ bored _ Jan”. she emphasises. 

Jan understands. She knows the exact feeling of  _ boredom _ that’s occupied every last one of her bones for the last week. The days are piling up quickly but they’re also droning on slower than Jan has ever experienced before. They come slower than the days before summer vacation used to back when she was in college, and slower than the setting of the late spring sun. The pace is agonising and Jan’s eyes battle against the morning light that’s getting brighter, harsher. Jackie has pulled her knees to her chest and Jan catches a glimpse of her pink underwear. 

It’s lacy, and Jan looks at it for a fraction of a second more than she knows she should. 

If Jackie notices, then she says nothing, just keeps  _ smirking _ . 

“Do you want to help me dye my hair?”. Jan blurts. 

She tosses her hair over her shoulders, feels it tickling at her spine through the fabric of her shirt. Jackie’s own hair has halfway dried into loose curls and she tucks them behind her ears. Jan pays attention to the gold and turquoise earrings dangling prettily from Jackie’s lobes before her words are resonating, infiltrating Jan’s daze. 

“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen”. Jackie snickers. 

“Is that a yes?”.

“Of course”. 

*****

They sit on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. 

They’re made up of greys and whites that form a checkers board, and Jackie makes a point of laying down a navy towel, stating that she doesn’t trust either of them not to litter the porcelain with splotches of lilac. Jan doesn’t fight it because she knows that Jackie’s right. They haven’t stopped smoking and Jan feels like she’s in her early twenties again; Jackie is giggling as she drags shades of violet throughout Jan’s hair, pausing between sections to take a hit from the bong that Jan nudges her way. 

Jan stares at herself through the mirror with hooded lids and blown out pupils. Jackie’s hands feel like they’re everywhere and yet nowhere all at once, and Jan leans back into them. She doesn’t tell Jackie that she should have worn gloves and that her hands are going to be tinted lilac because it hadn’t crossed her mind until it was too late. The occasional car drives past on the street below and Jan feels her thoughts run away with them. 

Jackie pulls her back by a steady hand on her shoulder and Jan has to laugh. The room is dazzling with the natural light and the white of the walls reflects the collection of Jackie’s house plants that have made their way to every far corner of the apartment. There’s a mammillaria blooming with pink petals from its pot that’s shaped like a watering can and Jan almost reaches up to touch it. 

“Jackie-”. Jan whines. 

“-Are you sure you haven’t missed any patches?”. 

Jackie tips her neck forward, rests her forehead against the hand on Jan’s shoulder. She lets out a groan, shrugs her own shoulders reflexively. A beat passes before Jackie lifts her head once more and when she does their faces are closer than they were before. Jan feels like she’s going cross eyed at the proximity and allows Jackie to twist the lengths of her hair, pile them in a halo atop of her head. There’s purple framing her face and sticking to Jackie’s hands and the towel was a  _ wonderful _ idea.

“I don’t know, my eyes feel like jello”. Jackie sighs. 

Jan lets out a short laugh, shakes her head. She hadn’t expected Jackie to say yes to smoking with her and had much less thought she would outsmoke her. Jackie is looking back at her with eyes that are less blown than her own and Jan doesn’t know how she does it. Jan is unable to maintain the shred of composure that Jackie is hanging onto by her nails that are digging into the sleeve of Jan’s shirt. She only lets go when Jan moves to rest her back against the edge of the tub. 

Jackie follows her. 

“How does your  _ entire body _ not feel like jello?”. Jan dramatises. 

The smirk that Jan received in response should have been expected, but it doesn’t startle her any less. Jackie bumps her elbow up against Jan’s and Jan is noticing more about Jackie than she has thus far. She has a barely there gold hoop pierced through her septum and a dainty outline of a lotus on her upper thigh. Jan presses a delicate finger to it because she feels like she has to and Jackie doesn’t stop her. She watches Jan’s touch coasting, travelling, and lets Jan look at her with a face that’s soft and full of intrigue. 

“What’s this for?”. Jan asks.

“It’s a lotus”.

“I know that. What’s it  _ for _ ?”. She tries. 

Jackie appears contemplative, and suddenly their voices are dropping to mere whispers. Jackie’s lips part, her tongue licking across them, and Jan knows that the dryness from smoking is catching up with her. Her finger joins Jan’s on her thigh and together they trace the petals of the lotus, trail around it in small circles. Jan pulls away when Jackie begins explaining and considers resting her head on Jackie’s shoulder before she remembers the dye coating her hair. 

“In Iran, lotuses are a symbol of like, spiritual growth. It’s meant to show how human beings can find redemption, even in the worst situations”. Jackie drawls. 

“Are you Iranian?”. 

Jan becomes enchanted. Their conversations are unfolding like envelopes and Jan wants to read all that they contain, each word and every story. Jackie turns to her with a nod of her head and crosses her legs beneath her. Jan’s still concentrated on the lines of the lotus and her head is beginning to spin as she breathes in; the smell of smoke has seeped into her shirt and it’s mixing with the coconut of Jackie’s shampoo and the blueberry candle that sits on the windowsill. 

“Half, yeah. I have a rose on the other leg-”. Jackie confides. 

She shows Jan another gentle outline that’s no bigger than her thumb. 

“-It’s their national flower”. 

Jackie says it like it’s the simplest thing, and Jan guesses that it is, to her. To Jan, it’s like learning to walk all over again and each step reveals something new about Jackie. It hits Jan, not for the first time, that they’re living together and barely know each other. It’s absurd and shouldn’t make sense, and is already proving to be as chaotic as anything Jan’s ever known. They’re sat on their bathroom floor at midday, Jackie’s hands stained purple and Jan’s heart pounding in her ribcage. 

“Mmm, pretty-”. Jan hums.

She pauses, prods at the lotus on Jackie’s thigh once more. 

“-You’re fun, I like you”. 

Jan says it before she realises that she means it. She doesn’t know Jackie beyond her questionable taste in mugs and her apparent love for smoking, but she decides then that she wants to. There are layers that she wants to peel away and Jackie’s smile tells her that she’s going to get the chance to do it, even if they have no choice.

Jackie offers out her hand, and Jan takes it, gladly. 

_ “Thank god”.  _


	3. day eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackie smiles from behind it and Jan smiles across it, watches as Jackie takes a tentative sip. Jan almost warns her about the temperature, almost tells her that she’ll scald herself, but remembers as Jackie tilts her head backwards, rests it against the back of the couch, that she’d witnessed her necking back a full cup of freshly poured green tea only the morning prior. Jan had observed her in awe over her bowl of cereal and had shovelled her spoon into her mouth to stop herself from grinning; it’s becoming a habit and Jan knows it. 
> 
> If Jackie is attentive - which Jan knows she is - then she knows it, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi pals!! we're back again with ch3! this one was super fun to write!! the feedback on the last ch was so lovely so I hope you love this one too!!
> 
> a different take for me (referencing current things - ie, animal crossing) but when hol suggested it I knew we had to write it. also thanks to charl for jans island name. you'll understand when you get there. 
> 
> (also there's a tiny discussion of periods in this ch, so if that's something that may be triggering for you, here's a heads up<3)
> 
> let us know your thoughts lovelies!<3

Day five becomes day eleven.

In that time, Jan learns more about Jackie than she initially thought she would. She doesn’t find herself complaining about it but it doesn’t make it any less of an unexpected experience. Jan awakes to sunlight on day eight and spends the morning pleading with Jackie to stop making jokes about being _canadiranian_ because there’s a stitch in her side that keeps growing, spreading. Their combined laughter echoes through the living room that same night as they drink their way through mugs of cheap boxed wine and Jan doesn’t know what she had been concerned about; Jackie tells her about her dad who’s Canadian and the conversation is easy. 

She learns about another of Jackie’s tattoos, too.

Her shirt slips from her shoulder as they’re making dinner together, and Jan spots a small _seven_ surrounded by freckles. Jackie explains that it’s for her lucky number and her brother's birthday, and Jan swallows a sip of wine to stop herself from grinning, blushing. Jan makes a pasta dish, a recipe ingrained in her soul from childhood, and Jackie makes pancakes for dessert that they eat amongst a pile of blankets. 

Jackie also teaches her small phrases in Farsi around mouthfuls of strawberries. Jan doesn’t quite grasp the difference between good morning and good night - _sobh bekheir_ and _asr bekheir_ \- at first, but Jackie repeats them until she’s able to echo them back with something that resembles confidence. Jan walks into the kitchen on a day where it’s raining outside, greets Jackie with a soft _salam_ , and the smile that Jackie gives her in return is enough to banish the clouds. 

They repeat the routine in different variations until it’s been nearly a week since Jan’s hair has been lilac. She pulls herself from her cotton sheets with a startling ease and shrugs on a pair of cotton shorts, a shirt that she’d haphazardly DIY cropped the summer prior. It leaves a strip of skin visible above her waistband, and she tugs it down feebly, only for it to spring back up. She scrutinises the movement of the fabric in the mirror of her dresser and decides that she doesn’t care. 

Her hair gets tamed by the combs of her fingers and she braids it loosely down her back, secures it with a satin scrunchie. Lavenders and reds and pinks clash against one another but Jan feels bright, alive. Her room smells like a cherry blossom candle that Jackie had convinced her to take from the living room and it puts a spring in her step as she pads out of the door, stalks happily along the corridor. 

The wooden floors are warm beneath her feet but as she strolls into the kitchen Jan feels her blood run colder. It’s not by much, but it’s enough for Jan to notice the difference. The smile that she’d been wearing upon her face is slowly disrobed, and is instead replaced with a frown. Jan is perplexed, faced with a room that is dark and silent compared to the usual of vibrant and filled with life that she’s become used to. The curtains are still drawn as she stands limp in the arch of the entryway, and she lets her eyes drift across the countertops still littered sporadically with dishes from the night before, the kettle that’s yet to be boiled and -

\- Jackie curled up on the couch. 

Jan’s eyebrows knit together, and her fingers toy nervously with the ruffled, fraying hem of her shirt. It crumples as she rolls it, and she squints her eyes in Jackie’s direction. She has to look past the dark that’s present thanks to their blackout curtains, the stand alone lamps that haven’t been switched on, but when she does, Jan feels her heart constrict, contract in her chest. 

Outside, the weather is warm, but Jan thinks that Jackie is wrapped in a number of blankets that would be suitable for the heights of winter. There’s the knitted one that they keep folded over the back of the couch, now draped across her legs, as well as Jackie’s thicker, fluffier blanket that she normally reserves for watching movies and spooning her way through a carton of ice cream that’s shrugged around her shoulders like a shawl. 

Jan’s eyes work their way up from Jackie’s feet that are hidden by said blankets, to her knees that are pulled tightly to her chest. They raise higher, to Jackie’s arms, bracketed around her body like steel vices. Jan notices the way that her nails are digging into the skin of her arms and takes a tentative step forward. The further into the room she ventures, the colder the floorboards; Jackie doesn’t flinch even as Jan nears the couch and worry is the only thing left for her to feel. 

The fabric of the couch looks darker than it has before, and Jackie’s unrelenting gaze doesn’t waver. She’s staring directly at the collection of succulents on the bookshelf in front of her and has her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Her brows are furrowed much like Jan’s but when Jan sits down next to her, Jackie still doesn’t blink. The depths of her eyes are glassy, hidden behind the lenses of glasses that Jan rarely gets to see. They’re square frames of tortoise shell and sit delicately on the bridge of Jackie’s nose. 

Jan thinks that they suit her. 

Jackie doesn’t agree. 

“Jacks?”. Jan whispers. 

Anything above a murmur would be too loud, too _much_ , Jan thinks. She shrinks her voice so that it fits the room and keeps it soft enough as to not alarm Jackie. The air crackles between them and Jackie turns her head, slowly, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Jan’s heart breaks at the sight and Jackie’s lips part. No sound escapes them but Jan shifts closer, places a hesitant hand upon Jackie’s shoulder. It’s slumped and stiff and Jackie’s eyes visibly widen further.

“Hey-”. Jan soothes. 

“-What’s wrong?”. 

The glaze of Jackie’s eyes glint in the grey of the room, and Jan almost forgets about the tack of the leather couch beneath her thighs. Jackie shakes her head, soft and slow, and she becomes unrecognisable for a fleeting second. She laughs humorlessly, a blunt chuckle, and Jan doesn’t stop herself from frowning. Jackie shakes her head once more, and then her body becomes less tense, gradually. She unwraps a trembling arm from her own body and places a cold hand atop Jan's. 

Jan squeezes Jackie’s palm between both of her own, watches as the warmth floods back into Jackie’s body in the minutes that pass wordlessly. Her fingers go from ice to fire and Jan doesn’t let go even when her chest starts burning. Jackie looks back at her with a smile that’s weak yet tender, gracious and tired, and Jan only then lets go of Jackie’s hand briefly to push Jackie’s glasses gently back up the bridge of her nose for her; Jackie leans into the touch and there’s an understanding that goes unspoken. 

It’s been building since day one and Jan would be lying through her teeth if she said she hadn’t noticed it. 

“I’m ok-”. Jackie breathes. 

“-Period cramps”. She explains. 

“Are they bad? Have you taken painkillers?”. 

“Yes to both”. Jackie grimaces. 

Jan nods her head in recognition, strokes her thumb across Jackie’s knuckles. Jackie tilts her head forward until her forehead rests on her knees, lets out a groan that makes Jan tighten her grip. Her head lifts again once the clock on the wall ticks over, indicates that another minute has passed, and she turns to Jan with furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes run from Jan’s face, down to their intertwined hands, and a faint smile spreads like ivy across her lips. 

There’s a pale blue hair tie holding her hair in a makeshift bun at the crown of her head, loose strands framing her face. They’re less tamed than they usually are, but Jan doesn’t comment on it, instead offers up her most empathetic simper. Jackie curls further in on herself and her nails are digging into the palm of Jan’s hand, leaving crescent moon shapes that form galaxies on her skin. 

“Fuck, sorry”. Jackie blanches. 

Her grip loosens. 

“It’s ok-”. Jan softens. 

“-How long have you been out here?”. 

Jackie looks at the clock, blinks dumbfounded. It reads a little after ten and Jackie looks at it as if time isn’t real. Jan watches the realisation dawn on her and Jackie gasps audibly. She looks at the window, then, still masked by the curtains. Slithers of light peak out from behind them and Jan marvels at the way Jackie leans towards it, as if a rose seeking daylight. The yellow strobes across her skin before she’s turning back towards Jan with confusion on her face.

“When did the sun come up?”. 

“About five hours ago, almost”. 

“No _way-_ ”. 

Jackie’s jaw slackens, and Jan has to stop herself from reaching out and closing it for her. Jackie’s defences are scattered on the floor surrounding them and there’s an instinct brewing in Jan’s gut that’s telling her to pick them up, piece them back together for her. She knows that it’s not the time to unpack _why_ but she files it away on the shelf of thoughts in her mind that’s ever growing, tells herself that she’ll deal with it later. 

Even if she won’t. 

“-I couldn’t sleep. It was dark when I got out of bed”. Jackie huffs. 

Jan squeezes her hand that bit tighter, and Jackie gives her a pained smile. Silence drowns them out as Jackie drops her head forward once more, mumbles about _the painkiller starting to work_ , and Jan feels a weight that shouldn’t have been there in the first instance beginning to lift. She smiles hopefully at Jackie, and Jackie responds by sinking back into the couch, taking the layers of blankets with her. 

“Why don't I uh, make you some tea? Breakfast?”. Jan proposes. 

Jackie only looks up long enough for Jan’s heart to break all over again. 

“You don’t have to do that, Jan”. 

But she does it anyway. 

Because she wants to.

*****

Jan boils their kettle, makes Jackie her chamomile tea. 

She chooses a mug that’s bigger than most in Jackie’s collection, one that has a handle on each side and is painted with black and yellow stripes in order to resemble that of a bumble bee. She adds a spoonful of honey for sweetness and when she takes it over to Jackie, who’s been watching her all the while from the couch, she reaches for it with eager hands. Her legs are still pulled to her chest, only not as tightly, and she holds the mug close to her face. 

Jackie smiles from behind it and Jan smiles across it, watches as Jackie takes a tentative sip. Jan almost warns her about the temperature, almost tells her that she’ll scald herself, but remembers as Jackie tilts her head backwards, rests it against the back of the couch, that she’d witnessed her necking back a full cup of freshly poured green tea only the morning prior. Jan had observed her in awe over her bowl of cereal and had shovelled her spoon into her mouth to stop herself from grinning; it’s becoming a habit and Jan knows it. 

If Jackie is attentive - which Jan knows she is - then she knows it, too. 

Jan doesn’t stop at the chamomile. Once Jackie has drunk her way through half of it, Jan convinces her to let her open one of the curtains. Jackie argues against the both of them for it would be too bright, and Jan doesn’t have it within her to disagree. She opens one, not even fully, allows the sunlight to stream into the apartment. It’s one of the hottest days of the year so far and with an ounce more pleading Jackie agrees to cracking open both windows. 

The effects are instantaneous, and Jackie’s cheeks go from blanching to blushing within the hour. She peels away one of her blankets - the fluffier one - and leaves the knitted one draped across her legs. Jan perches next to her on the couch, stays there until her stomach begins gurgling. She makes the both of them waffles with blueberries for breakfast and Jackie chews her way through them, finishes it off with the dregs of her tea. Jan offers to make her another cup and she sees Jackie contemplating it, before ultimately shaking her head no. 

She asks instead for Jan just to _stay_ , and not complying with her request doesn’t cross Jan’s mind. 

They spend the remainder of the morning on the couch. Jackie offers up half of her blanket and Jan slips underneath it, forgets about the heat that’s growing in the apartment. Jackie nestles into her side somewhere between hour one and two of their netflix marathon and Jan finds her arm looped across her shoulder. Jackie’s head rests on her chest, and every time she laughs, giggles, it vibrates through to Jan’s bones. Jan mumbles her observations about the obscurity of the documentary they’ve chosen to watch into the tresses of Jackie’s hair and Jackie gazes up towards her, gingerly. 

The afternoon rolls around, and when it does, Jan doesn’t want it to end. 

Jackie sighs into the fabric of Jan’s shirt, and Jan twists a finger in a strand of Jackie’s hair. 

“I need the bathroom”. Jackie grunts. 

Jan releases her arm carefully, and Jackie unfolds her limbs. She shuffles towards the edge of the couch, stretches out her legs. Jan watches the muscles of her shoulders twist, curl, relax from where her shirt has left the _seven_ tattoo exposed. Jackie rises slowly, and as she begins her walk towards the bathroom, Jan calls after her.

“Do you need anything?”. She asks. 

Jackie pauses in the entryway, shifts her weight from one foot to the other. The afternoon is droning on and Jackie’s tanned skin is illuminated golden. Jan trails her eyes shamelessly across her legs before she meets her gaze and Jackie is grinning back at her. Jan notices the way that the mint green of her shirt compliments the turquoise within her earrings; it’s the first time she’s seen Jackie wear a colour that’s as light and it’s something that she savours quietly. 

“Snacks?”. Jackie suggests.

She does so with a genuine smile, teeth grazing her bottom lip. Jan nods her head in agreement, doesn’t question it, and sends Jackie off with a reassuring wave of her hand. She emerges from beneath her half of the blanket, makes a beeline for her bedroom, and riffles through her drawer of snacks that she keeps separate from the kitchen. Its contents ranges from cookies to sugary gummies and Jan opts to tuck a selection of both under her arm. She knows that Jackie’s not going to expect them and the thought warms her further. 

Jan stops at her bedside table, too. It’s a thought that’s juvenile, maybe, but it’s one that doesn’t escape her once it crosses her mind. Jackie had mentioned it to her once over breakfast - that she’s been meaning to get herself a switch, a copy of animal crossing - and Jan recalls it with a grin. She disconnects her console from its charger and as she hears the door to the bathroom open once more, the sound of the sink draining in the background, Jan leaves her room. 

“I have acquired supplies!”. Jan sings. 

She’s stood face to face with Jackie, inches away from her in the small corridor. Jackie narrows her eyes, a faint smirk appearing, and motions towards Jan’s arms that she keeps close to her chest. Jan giggles, almost childlike, and skips back towards the living area. Jackie follows hot on her heels, albeit sluggishly, and joins Jan back on the couch. They forgo the blanket, instead press closer to each other. Jan presents Jackie with the snacks as well as the switch and Jackie’s face lights up with glee. 

“For me?”. Jackie blinks. 

“Mhm-”. Jan nods. 

She places the sugary gummies along with the cookies into Jackie’s lap, and the switch directly into her hand. Jackie turns it over, as if inspecting it, and Jan has to bring a palm to her mouth to stop herself from smiling blatantly. She clears her throat, lets Jackie delve into the packet of candy. Jackie reaches instinctively for the red ones like Jan had thought she would and the fingertips that Jan presses to her lips are futile. 

“-Have some snacks, play some animal crossing, and I’ll make us some dinner”. 

Jackie’s gawk is dovelike, and Jan is hyper focused on Jackie’s thigh pressed up against her own, the warmth reverberating off of her skin. The strands of Jackie’s hair that have escaped her bun are brushing against Jan’s shoulders and she has to stop herself from leaning further into it. Jackie smiles softly, and Jan is unable to work out whether the blush that prickles at her cheeks is from the heat still permeating the apartment through the windows or if Jackie’s feeling the same way that she is. 

Jan tells herself that she doesn’t know what said _feeling_ is but then Jackie’s closing in, placing a barely there kiss to her jaw. 

“Thank you, Jan”. 

*****

As the sun is setting, Jan leaves the couch. 

They agree on a simple dinner of stir fry, decide to use up the groceries that will wilt in the bottom of their fridge if they don’t get used soon. Jan digs out the noodles, followed by the beansprouts, chicken and spices that Jackie directed her towards. They’d been hidden behind a bag of pasta in a cupboard next to the oven, some of which Jan has never heard of. She tells Jackie as much only to receive a laugh in response and she tosses the guided amount of each into the pan with a pout. 

Jackie watches her from her spot on the couch, legs sprawled across the arm rest, and Jan stirs through the ingredients with a playlist of Jackie’s commentary in the background. The heat from the stove is warm but Jackie’s presence is warmer and -

\- Jan needs to stop. 

Lusting over her roommate that she has no choice to be stuck with is growing tiring. Jackie is nice and kind and a ray of light and Jan knows that her friends Rosé and Lagoona will chastise her for still managing successfully be a _useless dyke_ even during a statewide lockdown. Nicky’s reaction will be much of the same, she imagines, because she has to tell them; Jan knows herself well enough to understand that another week of listening to Jackie singing in the shower, humming while cooking dinner will have her at breaking point. 

Or at least nearing it. 

Jan had had plans to ignore her, to avoid any kind of friendship. She’d told herself to be pleasant and yet distant, offer smiles but never conversation. It had worked until she’d realised Jackie would make it an impossible feat with her unrelenting care and consideration. Jan doesn’t complain about it but it doesn’t mean that she’s happy about it, either, even as she beams at Jackie from across the room. 

“Oh my god you have peach trees!”. Jackie squeals. 

It takes Jan a minute to remember that she’s talking about the game in her hands. There aren’t peach trees in their apartment, despite some of Jackie’s house plants looking like they could grow into them with their height. Some appear too big for their porcelain pots and Jan lets herself chuckle, nods her head as she adds soy sauce to the pan. She stirs, combines it gradually, and begins dishing the meal into bowls. 

“I know-”. Jan smiles.

“-I was worried I’d get apples, or fucking pears”. She snorts. 

“Oh no, not a pear lover?”.

“Not when there’s the option of _peaches_ , Jacqueline!”. 

“Understandable”. Jackie hums. 

She smiles widely, continues playing with the console as Jan digs through their cutlery drawer, pulls out two forks. Jan takes them over to the couch along with the bowls of stir fry, places them down onto the coffee table as she waits for Jackie to haul her concentration away from the game. It happens quicker and simpler than Jan had thought it would. Jackie places the switch onto the arm rest of the couch as soon as Jan tucks herself beside her, and turns to Jan, smiles at her. 

“Your character looks so much like you”. Jackie muses. 

Her expression is lax, tender. She’s studying Jan in a way that’s new and yet not unwelcome, daring to delve further. Jan lets Jackie weave a hand into her hair that she’d shaken free from her braid somewhere between the end of the morning and the middle of the afternoon. Jackie tugs lightly at the ends that have formed into waves, wraps them once, twice around her fingers. Jan looks down to lilac wrapped around aubergine painted fingers and thinks that it works, somehow. 

“Yeah?”. Jan checks.

“It’s like having a tiny Jan on the screen”. 

Jackie giggles, reaches forward to the coffee table. She picks up her bowl, loads her fork despite Jan warning her that it’s still scorching. Jackie chews her way through three forkfulls in the time that Jan eats one, and Jan has to make the conscious decision not to gasp when Jackie moans quietly at the first taste. She ends up with sauce on her chin and Jackie points it out to her; she ducks in embarrassment but Jackie is already moving on. 

“Also-”. Jackie adds. 

“-I cannot _believe_ you named your island _Janada_ ”. 

“Listen, it was either _Janada_ or _Janmaica_ and _Janada_ just sounded better”. 

“What about _Jantasy Island_?”.

Jan groans around a mouthful of noodles, pouts once she’s swallowed. Jackie’s smirking at her, like she often is, and brushes her shoulder up against Jan’s. Jan doesn’t flinch away from it but she does lean back tactically, rests more of her weight on the couch than she does on Jackie. The sun has almost fully set and Jan understands that they’re going to have to switch the lights on soon but decides that it can wait, for now. The air breezing through the windows is still warm and it doesn’t feel as late as it is. 

“Where were you when it took me two whole hours to settle on that?”. Jan dramatises. 

“Probably somewhere being avoided by you”.

“ _Hey_!”. 

They haven't explicitly spoken about it, but Jan knows that Jackie is right. She wants to get to a place where discussing Jan’s initial distance is something that they’re able to laugh at, and Jackie’s lighthearted jab feels like a start. Jan scowls teasingly, and as they both make their ways to the bottom of their bowls, they’re still smiling. Once she’s done, Jan gets up to close the windows and draw the curtains, bathes the room in the soft glow of the free standing lamps. 

Jackie’s pale green shirt becomes auburn and it feels like a flame against Jan’s skin. 

The clock hits ten. 

“Are you tired?”. Jan checks. 

Their bowls are still sitting on the coffee table. Jackie shakes her head slowly and Jan thinks that she might be lying, knows that she _is_ lying. She doesn’t tell Jackie, instead chooses to arch an inquisitive eyebrow, and receives a breathy _shut up_ in response. Jan snorts but doesn’t push it, because the minutes are passing quicker than lightning when she wants them to rumble on like thunder. 

Jackie gets up from the couch before she does, takes their empty bowls with her. She sets them down into the sink and Jan follows, notices that the floorboards beneath her feet have cooled considerably. Her toes feel cold against them, and Jackie’s choice of thick socks that she’d pulled on half way through the day no longer seem like such a bad idea. They’re fluffy and pink and Jan eyes them with a shred of envy that quickly dissipates as Jackie pulls two mugs from the cupboard. 

One is lilac and the other is green and Jan thinks that it's symbolic of something, probably. 

“Peppermint? Chamomile? Chai?”. Jackie lists. 

“How many different types of tea do you actually have?”. 

“You don’t ‘wanna know”. 

“I’ll take peppermint”. 

Jackie makes their teas while Jan stands idle. They’ll wash the dishes in the morning, Jackie reassures, and Jan resigns herself to the couch because there’s no arguing with a stubborn Jackie, she’s coming to realise. She slips under the side of the blanket that she’s claimed as her own, wraps her feet in the warmth of the yarn. Jackie is joining her by the time that they’re no longer freezing and hands off the mug with a serene smile. Jan thanks her with a simper that’s equally as soft, and lifts the edge of the blanket up for Jackie to join her. 

The room smells like a spring garden, of peppermint and chamomile and calm. 

Jan feels at ease and Jackie looks like she is, too. They resume the documentary that they’ve been watching - but not really watching - for the majority of the day, and Jan keeps her mug close to her chest. The steam kisses at her skin, and as she drains her cup she feels Jackie’s body relaxing next to her. She swallows the last of her peppermint tea with Jackie’s head on her shoulder, an arm slung loosely across her waist. 

“Jan?”. Jackie whispers. 

Everything feels delicate. 

“Yeah?”.

“Can I ask you something?”.

Jackie’s eyes are tired. Jan can feel it as well as see it when she looks up at her, pupils wide yet lids hooded. The room is dim but Jan feels enlightened, like she can see clearly, and Jackie’s hand grips noticeably tighter at her waist. Her fingertips glide, and Jan’s breath hitches in her chest as she looks down at her, the serenity of the atmosphere making her mind feel foggy. 

“Are you doing ok?”. Jackie’s approach is cautious.

Jan doesn’t spend longer than a handful of seconds thinking about it, but she thinks that she knows her answer. She nods her head affirmatively, lifts her arm only to let it fall back around Jackie’s shoulder. Jackie moves to rest her chin on Jan’s chest and Jan feels it in her bones everytime that Jackie sighs, shifts. 

“I think so-”. Jan answers honestly. 

“-It’s a lot easier with you here”. 

Nothing else is said. 

Jackie falls asleep, head propped on Jan’s shoulder and legs sprawled out across the couch. Jan takes in the contented smile upon her face and mirrors it as Jackie mumbles breathily, spills out the words _comfy_ , _cosy_ , and nuzzles in closer. Jan tells herself that she’ll wake Jackie soon, coax her to sleep properly and comfortably in her own bed.

But for now Jan lets her be. 

And pretends not to feel the tug in her chest as she places a kiss to her head.

  
  



	4. day twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They dance around each other effortlessly, Jackie doing her part and Jan doing her own. Things flow seamlessly, and Jackie almost finds herself waiting to find the bump in the road that sends the car flying, toppling. It feels too good, too smooth, and Jackie hates to be cynical but it’s hard not to be when Jan brings a life to the apartment that hadn’t been there before she occupied the second bedroom, added her orchid to the houseplants littering the living room.
> 
> It doesn’t come by week three, and Jackie awakens at eight in the morning to the sound of bluebirds outside her window, her legs wrapped in her sage green sheets. They smell like the lavender fabric softener that’s reminiscent of falling asleep curled up next to Jan; Jackie had run out of her usual honeysuckle and sandalwood scented one and Jan had offered up hers because she’s nothing if not generous, Jackie has come to realise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back to dykes in lockdown! 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance, but the slow burn will be worth it (hopefully lmao) I promise!! the feedback on the last ch was so lovely, so a huge thanks to you guys again!! I'll keep the rambles short, but we hope you like this!!
> 
> let us know your thoughts!<3

It takes three weeks of convincing. 

Or, in actuality, three long weeks of harassment and prodding on Nicky’s part. As much as Jan had vowed to keep herself busy during the emergence of unlimited free time, the sudden forging of a friendship with Jackie has kept her busy, occupied and distracted for the past few weeks.

But Nicky knows Jan: habits, fears and all. As much as she finds an indulgent comfort in spending all of her waking hours simpering and waxing lyrical with Jackie, there’s a tidal wave of guilt slowly building within her that Nicky only encourages. She is the wind that helps it pick up, the push and pull of complacency and laziness that Jan knows should be moving into action.

They spend day fourteen reorganising the bookshelf in the living room, arranging them first by genre and then within it, alphabetical order. Jan argues for Jackie to allow her to place them by colour, so that the spines of the collection would form a rainbow, but Jackie bribes her not to with the promise of baking a tray of white chocolate chip cookies later that night. Jan doesn’t contest and eats the cookies with a smile before they spend the following day watering and pruning their expansive collection of houseplants. 

It’s a routine, and Jan is comfortable. 

She tells Nicky about it over a facetime call that lasts for three hours on the morning of day twenty-one. Nicky answers the call from the living room of her apartment uptown, her carved wooden fireplace that’s been painted white taking pride of place in the background. The mantle of it is decorated with candles on either side, a small clock sat in the middle. Jan isn’t able to hear it ticking through the mic of her laptop but she watches the pendulum swing back and forth as Nicky adjusts her volume, grins through the screen. 

Jan picks up the call from the comfort of the living room couch. It’s early, a little after nine, and if she’s correct - which she knows that she is - then Jackie will be almost done with her shower. The pipes are still as loud, chugging noisily through the ceiling, and Jan grimaces as Nicky points it out to her as if it’s a fact that Jan isn’t already aware of. The sun is streaming through the open curtains and Jan basks in it, feels the first waves of summer begin to wash over her. 

Beams of light bounce off of the screen of her laptop as Nicky launches into conversation, grills Jan about whether or not she’s taken her advice. Jan lets her ramble until the water in the bathroom stops running and then nods her head, cuts Nicky off with a bark of laughter. She crosses her legs beneath herself, and then places her laptop atop a pillow on her lap. 

“I did it, Nic, things are in the works”. She confirms. 

Nicky, reclining in her oval chair, lets out a pleased sigh. She rests her chin in her hands, curls up one side of her mouth. It’s characteristically Nicky, and Jan lets herself laugh once more. It’s a peculiar thing to adapt to - maintaining friendships, a work ethic through a film of technology - but Jan thinks that she’s managing it, slowly. Nicky’s simper transforms into a grin and Jan can’t help but join her. 

“Oh sweetie, _finally_!”. Nicky drawls. 

Jan’s head falls back against the couch, and her laughter travels towards the ceiling. The sun meets it, wraps around it, and Jan finds humour in how Nicky is looking at her like she’s never been more proud. Jan tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, adjusts her legs so that she’s able to prop her feet up on the coffee table. She closes two tabs on her computer so that Nicky’s face is the only one remaining and prepares for the inevitable barrage of questions that are already beginning to pour from Nicky’s lips. 

They come as Jan expects them to.

First they discuss the hours and logistics of Jan’s decision, any additional equipment that she’s going to need that Nicky could potentially get sent across the city for her. They agree that a newer mic would be beneficial, and Nicky promises that one will be on Jan’s doorstep by the end of the week. Jan doesn’t doubt her and simply hums along in agreement, reminds Nicky of her apartment number. They move on to the topic of cost just as quickly, but when that conversation comes to an end, the last thing Jan expects Nicky to mention is _Jackie_. 

She brings it up cautiously, as if she already knows about the tightness in Jan’s chest, the uncertainty in her mind. Her expression becomes unreadable and Jan visibly blanches, clutches tighter at the pillow that’s stopping her overheating laptop from scorching her bare thighs. Her nails dig into the yellow fabric of it and Nicky is already repeating herself because Jan doesn’t respond the first time, or the second. She barely makes it on the third; Nicky’s expression is comical and Jan huffs through her nose. 

“Jackie? Your roommate? The woman you live with?”. 

“I know who Jackie is”. Jan whines. 

“Are you sure? Are you _really_ sure?”. 

“Watch it, Nicolette”. 

Nicky shrugs her shoulders, feigns nonchalance. She raises her hands in mock surrender and Jan lets out a groan as she hears the bathroom door open. She expects Jackie to join her in the living room shortly after, but when the sound of Jackie’s bedroom door locking behind her echoes throughout the living space, Jan finds herself frowning. Nicky notices because _of course she does_ , Jan thinks. She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, leans closer to the screen. 

“Oh, what is _that_?”. Nicky scrutinises. 

“Nothing, I don’t know what you’re talking about”. 

Jan sings her response, and she’s glad for the bad signal in the apartment. Combined with the outdated quality of her webcam, it means that Nicky’s unable to see the blush climbing upwards, from her neck to her cheeks. Jan bites at the insides of them, though it proves futile in quelling her smile. Nicky notices, cocks her head to the side and chews on her bottom lip. Jan grows conscious of the subtle smile on her face, the way that she can’t help her eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“No no, your face just did something-”. Nicky notes. 

“-Tell me more about Jackie, right now”. 

Her tone is demanding yet joking, intrigued whilst teasing. Jan stays silent until Nicky is mumbling _tell me_ , over and over through the screen. There’s an ease to her expression that wasn’t there before and Jan allows herself to relax. Because Nicky might be a work colleague, but she’s a friend first and foremost, and Jan reminds herself of such while attempting to think of words, or any word to describe Jackie. 

She contemplates Jackie’s kindness, her caring nature that Jan has yet to see falter. She’s attentive and responsive, has allowed Jan the space that she’s needed whilst simultaneously embracing her into the folds of her life, building a rapport which has come easy. Jan also thinks about the warmth of Jackie’s arms and her baking abilities that have Jan salivating but telling Nicky that feels redundant.

It’s why she purses her lips, nods her head delicately. She brings a hand up to the back of her neck, cups it and works away the tension that she’s able to feel forming. Nicky’s still looking at her attentively, awaiting a response that Jan’s unable to find. She’s so close to the camera that Jan’s able to see the way her eyes flicker across her features, from Jan’s twisted eyebrows and down to her jaw that’s set adamantly, teeth clenched.

“She’s great-”. Jan starts. 

“-She’s really great”.

Nicky’s face softens. She exhales quietly, tilts her head back upright, and there’s no hint of farce left. Jan thinks that if anything, she looks empathetic, as if she understands, and Jan lets herself believe that she does despite knowing that she might not. Nicky has lived with her girlfriend Lemon for almost three years, and Jan’s able to count the number of days on one hand that she hasn’t witnessed either of them post a sickly sweet instagram story featuring the other. Nicky often sends Jan texts about her day and while Jan is happy for her, there’s a niggling feeling brewing in her gut that has a name. 

_Jackie_. 

Jan continues rubbing at her neck, only drops her hand when Nicky’s grin reappears. Her expressions are going through the motions and Jan follows them, mirrors them too for the most part. She smiles back tentatively, and then buries her head in her hands with a groan. Nicky doesn’t address it but she does offer a counter point and Jan guesses it says all that she needs to know. 

“If it makes you feel any better-”. Nicky starts. 

“-I’m pretty sure Rosé and Lagoona are being more than _friendly exes_ right now”. She snorts. 

“You mean-”. 

“I mean, I spoke to Rosé and the boredom is definitely getting to them because they’ve fucked already”. 

It doesn’t surprise Jan, but she finds herself shaking her head, giggling along. Rosé and Lagoona are as magnetised to one another as any couple that she’s ever known and Jan is more surprised that it took them longer than three days to fall back into their old habits. She tells Nicky as much through baited breath and they fall into hysterics that provide a welcome break from the subject of Jan and her roommate who she may or may not be entranced by. 

“Do you think they’ll ever sort their shit out?”. Jan wonders. 

Nicky shoots her a look, then. Jan sends one back that holds just as much warning and Nicky scoffs, rolls her eyes. She drops it after a minute and shrugs her shoulders in response to Jan’s query. Jan wipes at an imaginary scratch on her screen to busy her hands, and the corner of it flashes with a notification, alerting her that Nicky has sent her an invite to edit a schedule. 

“I hope so-”. Nicky huffs. 

“-Anyway, make yourself a fucking calender!”. 

*****

Jackie goes from tolerating Jan to liking Jan. 

And then from liking Jan to _liking_ Jan. 

She’s unable to pinpoint when it happened, but she’s willing to make a bet on sometime between streaking lilac dye through Jan’s hair and falling asleep on the couch, nestled into Jan’s chest. The first time. It’s happened a handful of times since then and each time Jackie wakes up to gentle fingers carding through her hair, a soft thumb stroking at the number _seven_ inked onto her shoulder blade. Jan places tender kisses to the crown of her head and Jackie feels like she’s a queen. 

There’s a softness between them that’s startling. Jackie hadn’t expected it to bloom from nothing but when it does, she enjoys it. She doesn’t complain about spending each waking minute of each day at Jan’s side, busying themselves with all that there is to do in their small apartment. Jackie’s never succeeded in sharing a kitchen with somebody without wanting to douse them in the contents of her saucepans but she has that with Jan and it’s _nice_. 

They dance around each other effortlessly, Jackie doing her part and Jan doing her own. Things flow seamlessly, and Jackie almost finds herself waiting to find the bump in the road that sends the car flying, toppling. It feels too good, too smooth, and Jackie hates to be cynical but it’s hard not to be when Jan brings a life to the apartment that hadn’t been there before she occupied the second bedroom, added her orchid to the houseplants littering the living room.

It doesn’t come by week three, and Jackie awakens at eight in the morning to the sound of bluebirds outside her window, her legs wrapped in her sage green sheets. They smell like the lavender fabric softener that’s reminiscent of falling asleep curled up next to Jan; Jackie had run out of her usual honeysuckle and sandalwood scented one and Jan had offered up hers because she’s nothing if not generous, Jackie has come to realise. 

She breathes in the smell of spring.

It’s like a flourishing garden, and she closes her eyes to the sound of a truck passing on the street below. It reminds her that a world exists beyond the walls of their apartment and Jackie isn’t sure how she feels about the realisation. She forces herself out of bed a handful of minutes later with the intention of showering, washing her hair that’s been piled into a bun on the top of her head for the better part of two days. 

A grimace leaves her lips as she tugs the elastic free, her curls falling around her shoulders. Her fingers make little progress in detangling the knots that have formed and Jackie pads towards the bathroom, careful not to disturb the creaks in the floorboards and thus waking Jan in the process. She’s learnt that Jan prefers to stir naturally and she keeps it in mind whenever she turns on the squeaking shower tap, or locks the bathroom door that clicks too loudly. 

Her shower is calm, peaceful. 

Yet there’s a worry that she can’t shake, a feeling that she doesn’t want to vanish. She hears Jan rouse sometime between the application of her shampoo and her washing it out, listens to the faint footsteps that make their way to the kitchen. She’s able to decipher the tune of _I drove all night_ being hummed happily over the screech of the shower, and she lets herself smile, allowing herself to indulge briefly in thoughts that consist only of Jan. 

Jackie thinks about her hair, that’s slowly fading from lilac back to blonde. Her roots are growing in dark and she complains about them religiously but Jackie thinks that they’re pretty. They match the brunette of her eyebrows and the depths of her eyelashes, making her fair skin appear flushed. She thinks about Jan’s nails, always kept short and painted a different colour every week. Jackie watches as she sits for half an hour every Sunday night, painting carefully before offering to paint Jackie’s afterwards.

Her eyes catch a glimpse of her navy painted nails wrapped around her conditioner bottle, because she always says yes. 

But she also thinks about Jan’s soul, and the way that it’s kind in a different way to her own. 

Jan’s affection isn’t immediate. She holds it close to her chest, dishes it out bit by bit until there’s nothing left to hold back. It comes in waves until Jackie is drowning, being washed out to sea by compassionate and gracious gestures that pull her back to the shore eventually. Jan is calculated yet tender, and Jackie relives the previous weeks in a poignant supercut as she combs her coconut conditioner through the lengths of her hair. 

And then there are voices, emanating from the living room. 

One is unmistakably Jan’s and the other is drawn out, deeper. It’s indecipherable over the thrum of the water but when Jackie switches it off, wraps her body and her hair in towels and steps out of the bathroom, it becomes clearer. The voice is still tinny, muffled by the disconnect of the speakers that it’s piercing through, but Jackie notes that it’s accented, European. She narrows it down to French after spending too long standing in the corridor, feet wet against the wooden floors, and smiles as she catches a mention of Rosé and Lagoona. 

Jan has spoken about them in passing conversations, about how they’re _friendly exes who are probably more than friendly_ suffering through lockdown together. Jackie had understood without so much as a further question and it’s why she treads carefully back to her room, clutches her towel tighter to her chest. The one wrapped around her hair threatens to slip but she only allows it to do so once she enters her bedroom, makes herself comfortable at her dresser. 

The conversation isn’t audible through the wall separating them, but she doesn’t need it to be.

Jackie pulls on a robe once she drops the towel from her body, too, one that’s pink and fluffy and not at all fitting with the rest of her wardrobe. It falls to below her knees and as she observes herself in her vanity mirror she thinks that she appears as refreshed as she feels. 

She combs her usual oil through her hair, lets it sit as she digs through her drawers, rifts through her long neglected collection of makeup. It’s been weeks since she’s had a reason to apply anything other than a coat of mascara to head to the grocery store and she knows that it sounds superficial but she wants Jan to think that she looks nice, looks good. 

There’s something in the way that Jan looks at her, eyes warm and soft, that’s making Jackie crave it more. She thinks about the way that Jan’s eyes widen, become doe like when talking about something that she enjoys, the way that they gleam even more so when discussing something she loves. Her lips curl effortlessly into smile after smile and whenever Jackie is the cause of them, a sense of pride sparks in her bones. It’s why she applies concealer to the background track of Jan’s faint laughter coming from the living room, neglects to reach for her blush because her cheeks are already aflame enough. 

The makeup is minimal, but as her hair is drying in loose curls down her back, and her lips are soft with a tinted balm, Jackie thinks that she does look _good_. She spends a further minute or two smiling at her own reflection before thumbing through her closet, pulling out loungewear that’s newer than the stuff that she normally opts for. She’s lost count of how many times Jan has seen her in her oversized burgundy t-shirt; she’s had it since college and there’s a bleach stain on one of the shoulders from the one time she’d attempted to give herself at home highlights. 

It’s still warm outside, and she concludes that there’s no reason why she shouldn’t decide on shorts, a tank top that rouches around her waist. Both are grey, made of a soft cotton that’s cut close to her body. She gives herself a once over in her full length mirror - she has a collection of belts and scarves hooked over one corner - before pulling on some socks. She settles on a pair that are blue and fluffy, ones that muffle her footsteps as she begins walking to the kitchen. 

Jan is still talking as she enters, light and airy and happy. She’s giggling and has her head tilted backwards against the couch, and doesn’t notice when Jackie enters the room, at first. She keeps laughing, joking with the woman on her screen. She only looks up with a grin when Jackie begins boiling the kettle, fills it with water from the sink. The stream of it cuts above the noise of Jan’s chatter, but Jan is already turning to Jackie, grinning and waving with excitement. 

And then she turns away again. 

Jackie tries not to let her heart sink as the steam that’s pouring from the spout of the kettle wafts across her face. She leans into it, tries to keep her gaze off of Jan, and waits for the water to reach boiling point. It’s easier said than done when Jan’s lighting up the room more than the sun outside, her hand movements free and gleeful. Jackie finds herself watching her from across the kitchen, eyes trained first on Jan’s smile and then on the screen of her laptop. 

She’s barely able to see it - her eyesight without her glasses is questionable at the best of times - but what she’s able to decipher is enough to have her shrinking in her skin. The woman looks gorgeous, even through the pixelated picture. She’s blonde with high cheekbones and is making Jan laugh. She’s also _French_ and it’s a combination that Jackie doesn’t know whether she can compete with. 

“Nicky!”. Jan screeches. 

Jackie puts a face to a name. 

“What’re you smiling at?”. Nicky voices. 

Jan waves a dismissive hand, and it knocks the wind out of Jackie. Her fingers grip at the edge of the countertop until her knuckles are matching the whites of the walls surrounding her. Jan continues smiling unabashedly at her screen, blissfully ignorant of the way that Jackie’s chest is seizing, or the pounding in her head that’s making her feel dizzy. 

“Just Jackie!”. 

_Just Jackie._

Jackie is _just_ Jackie. 

She feels foolish for thinking that she could be anything more, and feels overdressed in her minimal makeup and loungewear. It all pieces together for her, because Jan hasn’t spoken about Nicky before and Jackie contemplates if there’s a reason why. Jan is sitting pretty in her makeup for Nicky and Jackie had tried to be that for Jan. It’s a harder thought to stomach than it should be and Jackie reaches past her tea bags in the cupboard, goes straight for the instant coffee that she hasn’t touched in eons. 

Jackie puts two spoonfuls into her largest mug and tunes out from there. 

Or tries to. 

She has no warrant to be jealous, she knows, but everytime that Nicky mutters a _sweetheart_ , or Jan responds with a gentle _doll_ , Jackie feels one more string in her heart shatter. She’s hanging on by a withering thread as she pours water into her mug, forgos retrieving her favourite oat milk from the fridge in lieu of standing still, staring into the depths of her coffee as she stirs it. Jackie doesn’t trust herself to move and even if she did she doubts she’d want to. 

Jan is wrapping up the call while Jackie is still stirring slowly and Jackie knows that she should leave. She knows that her bedroom would be the safest place to be, to shelter herself from the inevitable, but her feet won’t carry her. They don’t move an inch, instead keep her firmly planted in the same spot adjacent to the stove. There’s still steam leaking from the kettle and Jackie wants it to swallow her up. 

“Love you babe! Text me!”. Jan beams. 

She blows a kiss and Jackie feels just a little crushed as the laughter comes to a halt. 

Jackie’s spoon clanking against the edge of her mug becomes the loudest thing in the room. It’s high pitched, mildly irritating, but Jackie doesn’t stop. Her attention is focused on _not_ focusing on Jan, and how she’s already rising from the couch, setting her laptop down and sauntering towards the kitchen area. Her oversized plaid shirt falls to the tops of her thighs and she looks comfortable, happy. 

There’s a light dusting of blush across her cheeks, a coat of mascara on her lashes. It makes them even longer and Jackie didn’t think it could be possible but it is. They flutter against her brow bones and as Jan rounds the countertop, maneuvers to rest her elbows against it, she looks up to Jackie with a grin. Jackie tries to mirror it but finds that there’s an ache in her chest that can’t be shifted. 

“Hey cutie-”. Jan simpers. 

“-Morning”. 

“ _Hey_ ”.

Jackie’s response comes out strained. She drops her spoon into the sink at her side, ignores Jan’s apple shampoo that’s swirling up towards her nostrils. She breathes it deep into her lungs despite her mind telling her not to, and Jan stands up straight to meet her gaze. Up close, Jan is glowing, and it takes all of Jackie’s effort not to cave in. 

Her hands could reach out and cup Jan’s cheeks. 

Their lips could meet. 

Jackie doesn’t let them. 

“Did you sleep well?”. Jan checks. 

“Really well, yeah-”. Jackie nods. 

Because she had. She’d slept with ease, falling asleep minutes after pulling herself from Jan’s embrace on the couch. Jan had bid her a goodnight with one final hug and the promise that she’d see her bright and early. Jackie’s been spending less and less time in the seclusion of her bedroom and more hours with Jan, in the space that they’ve been cultivating together. She thinks that maybe it’s due to change when Jan grins back at her, and Jackie’s taken back to how Nicky had evoked the same smile from her. 

“-You?”.

“Super well!-”. Jan exclaims. 

“-Hey, we should go for a walk or something today!”. 

She’s quick to tag her suggestion onto the end of her sentence, and Jackie considers it, briefly. She doesn’t do so intently because of the stubborn streak that’s ingrained within her, but she does think it over. She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, hums noncommittally. Jan frowns, and creases appear on her forehead. Jackie wants to smooth them out for her and it’s another thought that she scalds herself for. 

“Yeah, maybe”. Jackie answers. 

Jan still looks confused. Her eyes are perplexed, and outside, the sun begins to vanish behind thick, greying clouds. Jackie observes them over the dip of Jan’s shoulder and wishes that they would carry her away. They look soft, comforting, and Jackie is ready to be rained upon. Her body feels weak as Jan takes a step backwards; Jackie feels the guilt spreading outwards from her chest and knows that she should have made herself scarce while she had the chance, while Jan was distracted. 

They don’t say anything else but Jackie doesn’t think that they need to. 

She retreats to her room with her coffee, and doesn't leave for the remainder of the day. 

*****

Jackie calls her friend Brooke when what’s left of the sun begins to set. 

She doesn’t do so with the intention of spilling her guts to Brooke and her girlfriend Vanessa but it happens organically, and Jackie is unable to take it back. 

Her phone is held in her hand as she lays amongst her barricade of pillows, the facetime camera capturing her at an angle that she knows isn’t flattering. Brooke reassures her that she doesn’t care as she picks up the call from her garden and Jackie lets herself relax for the first time in hours. Vanessa joins them quickly, and never one to mince her words, raises the subject of Jackie’s downtrodden eyes.

Jackie closes her eyes, huffs out a breath through her nose. Brooke and Vanessa are patient as the tulips in the background frame the both of them and Jackie wishes that was her. Vanessa tilts her head, questioningly, and Jackie groans. It’s rough in her chest and loud in the room and she hopes that Jan doesn’t hear her. Or in the event that she does, prays that she won't bring her up on it. 

“C’mon, Ms Cox, you’re lookin’ like a sad puppy”. Vanessa laughs. 

Jackie then chooses to sit up. She props herself against the headboard, stretches her legs out across the bed. The sheets are rumpled, creasing beneath her, but Jackie chooses to focus on the gazes of her friends through the screen that are kind and understanding, willing and open. Brooke wraps an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders to give a brief squeeze and then lets go. The picture goes grainy for a fraction of a second and Jackie uses it as her go ahead. 

“My roommate is really nice”. 

Brooke leans closer to the camera, face slowly contorting into a frown. Vanessa’s expression is similar yet there’s a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Brooke shoots Vanessa a confused look before she turns back to Jackie on the screen and blinks once. Dandelion dust floats above them in their garden and Jackie follows it because it gives her something to fixate on other than the pounding of her heart, threatening to jump out of her ribcage. 

“Ok?”. brooke drawls. 

“I mean she’s _really_ nice”. Jackie breathes. 

The smirk that had been flourishing on Vanessa’s face blossoms fully. Brooke’s own mouth forms an _O_ and Jackie knows that they get it. She taps her fingers rhythmically against her mattress - a nervous habit that she’d picked up one summer as a teenager and has never managed to kick - and doesn’t look back at her phone for fear of being met with a reality that she doesn’t want. Brooke is already making a sympathetic noise and Jackie doesn’t need it. 

“Ohhh”. Brooke realises. 

But Vanessa doesn’t look convinced. Brooke has been one of Jackie’s closest friends since they grew up together in Canada, and has known Vanessa since their college days in California. Brooke is the smart one but Vanessa is wise, intuitive. It’s because of them that Jackie had realised that the two things rarely correlate; Vanessa’s already asking questions that don’t so much as cross Brooke’s mind and Jackie has to laugh or else she thinks she might cry. 

“So why are you sad? What’s the bitch done?”. Vanessa doesn’t mince her words. 

Jackie watches as Brooke nudges Vanessa with her elbow, mumbles a pointed _Vanessa_ . Vanessa simply stares through the screen with eyes that are piercing, searching. Jackie lets them scan her face because Brooke is showing no sign of catching up with the conversation and Jackie is _tired_. She lets her head fall back against the wall, a soft thud echoing throughout the room. The minimal light from outside bathes the room in a silver-blue glow and Jackie thinks that it feels fitting. 

“I think she’s dating somebody”. 

The pin drops for Brooke at Jackie’s confession, and it’s like watching a puzzle slotting into place in real time. Vanessa watches it too and shoves Brooke’s shoulder teasingly, allowing Brooke to go through the motions of realisation and then understanding, before she eventually settles on confusion once more. Vanessa’s expression is different, harbours something that resembles mischief. She stays silent as Brooke takes her turn in firing loaded questions, ones which Jackie isn’t sure she knows the answers to. 

“Wait, what do you mean you _think_ she’s dating somebody?”. 

“I-”. Jackie starts. 

She tells herself that she’s not being irrational. 

“-She was talking to this woman earlier, and she was French and hot and blonde and they kept calling each other really cute pet names but then Jan called me a cutie after she hung up and I’m so _fucking_ , just, I don’t know what’s going on, you guys”. 

It comes out in one breath. One, exhausted, elongated breath that makes Jackie feel lighter. Brooke’s face is empathetic where Vanessa’s is intrigued. There’s still a faint smirk there and Jackie’s glad for it. It takes the edge off of the conversation that Jackie is slowly losing track of. She’s able to hear the living room tv playing in the background and knows that Jan is still there, by herself. The thought shouldn’t make her feel sorry but it does and she chooses not to fight it. 

“Y’all been doing the flirting?”. Vanessa asks. 

“I thought so”. Jackie nods. 

“Define _thought so_ ”. Brooke snorts. 

“Brooke-”. Jackie sighs. 

“-We’ve been flirting. And I want to kiss her senseless”. 

Jackie doesn’t tell her that it’s so much more than that because saying it outloud feels too raw. Her thought process repeats itself as she thinks of Jan’s tenderness and her unwavering kindness, the delicacy with which she treats Jackie with. Her soul is something which Jackie has grown to marvel and it’s evident in everything that Jan does, be it talking animatedly about a text that her parents have sent her or discussing an episode of reality tv. 

All of it does make her want to kiss Jan senseless. 

Her body and lips have the same effect but Jackie keeps that to herself, too. 

Vanessa is already grinning maniacally and Jackie’s able to feel a storm brewing. She glances at the small image of herself in the corner of her screen, hair tousled and mascara transferring to underneath her eyes. She looks back to Brooke and Vanessa and laughs lowly at Vanessa who’s pointing an accusatory finger. 

“I’ve got an idea for ‘ya”. Vanessa proposes. 

“You do?”. Brooke frowns. 

“Yes ma’am!”. 

Jackie watches the interaction, bemused, and raises both of her eyebrows. She’s interested yet cautious and makes it known by chuckling shortly. Vanessa brushes her hair over one shoulder and Jackie doesn’t miss Brooke’s fingers twisting the ends of it aimlessly; it reminds her of herself and Jan and she has to take a deep breath in through her nose in order to make the thoughts dissipate. 

“What’s your idea?”. Jackie asks. 

The room is all but dark, and Vanessa claps her hands together excitedly. It’s still light in Los Angeles and Brooke lets the sun wash over her as Vanessa talks. In the both of them, Jackie continues to see herself and Jan and it hurts her, just a little. Jackie tilts the camera momentarily away from herself in order to sniff, wipe at a tear that doesn’t fall quite yet. Brooke’s faint laughter pulls her back and then she stays, lets Vanessa’s words sink into her skin. 

“I say-”. Vanessa starts. 

“-We make her jealous”. 

“ _What_?”. 

“You have a friend that’s hot and blonde, and speaks french”. Vanessa reminds her. 

It takes Jackie longer than it should to realise that she’s talking about Brooke. It appears to take Brooke just as long and it would be comforting if it wasn’t for the dull ache settling in Jackie’s stomach. She frowns, cocks an eyebrow, and knows that she’s going to end up agreeing to whatever idea Vanessa conjures up before the night is over. Dandelion dust continues to breeze around Brooke and Vanessa and Jackie lets herself get carried away with them. 

Jackie pulls back her duvet, slips underneath it with her ensemble of shorts and a tank top still clothing her body. The connection of her phone wobbles for a moment before it’s back, stronger. Vanessa is still talking but Jackie doesn’t hear her. She’s hyperfocused on the softness of her sheets and the smell of lavender and how it makes her think of Jan. The tv in the living room switches off before Jackie’s able to respond and Vanessa’s still looking at her. 

“Well?”. 

Jan’s footsteps pad quietly down the corridor, and then her bedroom door locks. 

The ache in Jackie’s stomach grows deeper, more intense. The apartment is silent and the crackle emanating from the speaker of her phone feels ominous. She turns her volume down by two notches, so that Vanessa’s voice isn’t so loud in her ears, and Brooke looks back at her like she understands where this is going. Jackie thinks that she does too, and it’s why she nods her head, hums in agreement that she later might regret. 

“Tell me the plan”. 


	5. day twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the weeks, Jan has memorised the steps of Jackie’s morning routine with details that feel too intimate for their dynamic. Because it’s shifted, altered into something unrecognisable compared to what it started as and Jan is unsure how or why it’s happened. Jackie has grown distant, but it’s been over a week since Jan had noticed and she’s still being pleasant. Jan doesn’t understand the reasoning behind it, only acknowledges that it hurts.
> 
> Jackie still smiles at her each morning as they work around one another in order to make breakfast, and offers to make Jan’s for her if Jan trudges out to the kitchen after sleeping in longer than she normally does. They bake together in the evenings and drink enough boxed wine for the entire street. Jackie still lets Jan choose what movies they watch even though Jan knows she doesn’t enjoy them, and they walk to the nearest park together in an attempt not to forget what the outside world looks like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back!!
> 
> so, things really start happening in this one, and I promise they'll stop being so useless soon!
> 
> as always, thank you all so much for the lovely feedback you've been giving us, you're all angels!! 
> 
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The sky is overcast when Jan wakes up. 

There’s still a warmth that lingers in the air, but the greys painting the city are overwhelming and Jan wants to fall back to sleep the instant that she opens her eyes. It’s barely eight in the morning, and her eyelids feel heavy like lead. She hadn’t succeeded in drifting off until after, four, had watched the beginnings of the sun rising through her still open curtains. She hadn’t closed them before diving into bed the night before and hadn’t cared enough to get back up to close them. 

She still doesn’t, even with her eyes burning, squinting against the stark white. Her vision flickers in flecks of green when she stares for too long, and still she doesn’t look away. Her sheets feel colder against her skin than they have in weeks and the scent of her lavender fabric softener has faded away to nothingness. It’s not something that she would normally miss and has never missed before, but the days are starting to drone on and Jan finds herself searching for any comfort that she’s able to get her hands on.

There’s familiarity in the handful of pictures she has scattered across her room, and the abstract painting made by Crystal that still sits on her dresser. The yellows are vibrant, and they mix with the reds and blues until Jan doesn’t feel quite so detached. The traffic outside is as quiet as it’s ever been with the exception of a siren in the distance and all of it amalgamates in something ominous, eerie. 

Jan fists a corner of her blanket in the palm on her hand and squeezes tightly. Her wrist aches with it after no more than a few seconds that trickle by agonisingly, and Jan is forced to let it go, allowing the sheets to fall in wrinkles at her side. She stares at them as if they’ve personally wronged her, and begins to hate the way that the lilac hue of them tinges her skin with a coldness that it doesn’t hold naturally. It only serves as a reminder that she’s spending less time outside than she would usually be during any other summer; her skin isn’t glowing golden and it makes her feel hollow. 

The springs of her mattress squeak beneath her, and she files away a reminder to purchase herself a new one. Her online vocal lessons are doing well enough that she’s able to afford it, and with the amount of time that she’s spending cooped up in her room she knows her spine would thank her. With every twist, reposition, Jan’s shoulders have started to click, and there’s a voice in the back of her head that belongs to her mom, scalding her about bad posture. 

Jan doesn’t listen to it, but she does make the conscious decision to sit up against her headboard as the apartment begins rumbling to life. From her room, she’s able to hear the creaking of the floorboards in Jackie’s room as she picks herself out of bed, and then the screech of her bedroom door as she opens it slowly. The door to the bathroom matches it, and then the pipes are gurgling in the ceiling. 

Over the weeks, Jan has memorised the steps of Jackie’s morning routine with details that feel too intimate for their dynamic. Because it’s shifted, altered into something unrecognisable compared to what it started as and Jan is unsure how or why it’s happened. Jackie has grown distant, but it’s been over a week since Jan had noticed and she’s still being  _ pleasant _ . Jan doesn’t understand the reasoning behind it, only acknowledges that it hurts. 

Jackie still smiles at her each morning as they work around one another in order to make breakfast, and offers to make Jan’s for her if Jan trudges out to the kitchen after sleeping in longer than she normally does. They bake together in the evenings and drink enough boxed wine for the entire street. Jackie still lets Jan choose what movies they watch even though Jan knows she doesn’t enjoy them, and they walk to the nearest park together in an attempt not to forget what the outside world looks like. 

Jan’s not sure if it’s working, but it does make her smile. She stretches out her legs, points her toes into the mattress. She has the day off from her vocal classes and despite her love for her craft, the break is one that’s welcome. An air of calm settles despite the clouds looming beyond her window, making the room appear drab. There are specs of rain forming clusters on the glass but she looks past them, tries to search for the warmth of the sun concealed behind the clouds.

Jackie switches off the water of the shower just as Jan is peeling her blanket off of herself. Jan makes a beeline for her dresser, tames her hair that has escaped from it’s braid throughout the night. She re-braids it over one shoulder, secures it with a scrunchie that she finds tossed next to her mirror. It’s bright pink, almost neon, and Jan doesn’t miss how it looks out of place against the dark green and navy of her plaid shirt. 

Baby hairs frame her face, and she’s unable to get them to stay tucked behind her ears no matter how many times she places them there. She relents her efforts when she picks her phone up from her bedside table, disconnects it from the charger with a yank and heads towards the kitchen. The curtains are still drawn when she gets there and she makes quick work of opening them, allowing light to flood the living area. It’s darker than usual but it’s something, and Jan will take something over darkness. 

The floorboards, where once hot, are chilling beneath the soles of her feet. They remain that way as she busies herself with rummaging through the fridge. She pulls out their half used carton of eggs, the tub of butter that she has to stretch for on the top shelf. Their bread is tucked away in the cupboard next to it and she retrieves that, too, before selecting a freshly washed pan that’s still sat on the countertop. 

She sets about boiling a pan of water with two eggs for herself and two for Jackie. It’s an assumption that she makes before asking - whether or not Jackie wants them - but decides if she doesn’t then Jan will have them happily with her lunch. The steam from the water gives her the warmth that she’s missing from the room and it’s nice, calm and relaxing -

\- Until Jackie is walking down the corridor. 

Jan hears her before she sees her. 

There are hushed words that are mixed in with giggles, breathy chuckles that make Jan frown. Jan hears Jackie’s sock clad footsteps too but pays less attention to them and more to the sweet syllables pouring from Jackie’s lips. They’re quiet at first, but as Jackie gets closer, steps into the room with a grin on her face and a phone pressed to her ear, they become loud and clear. Jackie keeps her gaze off of Jan up until she’s stood an arms length away from her and Jan tries to not let the sting show on her face. 

Jackie leans back against the countertop, crosses her legs at the ankle. Jan trails her eyes from her bare feet upwards, tries to to spend too long analysing the grey sweatpants that are slung low on her hips, or her sports bra that’s clinging tightly to her chest. Jackie keeps talking down the phone line as if Jan isn’t standing next to her, staring down her collarbones, and Jan dares to think that it’s inconsiderate. 

“Brooke, honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Jackie giggles. 

She does so airily, breathily to the extent that the end of her sentence almost trails off into a whisper. Jan diverts her eyes to the pot that’s just starting to boil on the stove, and shifts to the left to put two slices of bread in the toaster. She watches Jackie from the corner of her eyes, and has to bite at the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from huffing when Jackie rolls her eyes with a smile spread across her face. It stretches from ear to ear and Jan’s anger is boiling along with the water. 

She tries to quell it but fails.

“Listen, listen, I’ve ‘gotta go, but I’ll text you!”. 

Jackie’s voice grows louder, and Jan feels the hairs prickling on the back of her neck as she pulls the phone away slowly. From it, comes a woman’s voice -  _ Brooke’s _ voice - and from what Jan catches, it’s silky and seductive and makes her clench her fists at her side. Her nails dig into the palms of her hands and for a brief second she thinks that Jackie notices; Her eyes hone in on Jan for the first time since she stepped foot into the kitchen and Jan has to force herself not to smile triumphantly. 

Jan catches the end of Brooke’s farewell, a peppy _ love you, babe! _ and switches off the gas of the stove when one of her hands stops trembling enough. The boiling of the water comes to a stop and Jan lets out a shaky breath, scrunches her eyes closed as she fishes the eggs out of the water with a spoon. She sets them down onto a paper towel, and turns to Jackie with a tight lipped smile that she hopes doesn’t look forced. 

The way that Jackie arches her eyebrow tells her that it does. 

“Bye sweetie!”.

The call cuts as Jackie taps at her phone screen. The disconnecting beep fills the room before silence takes over, and Jackie places her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. Jan watches her do it as she takes the toast out of the toaster, begins searching through the cupboards for two plates. She settles on one that’s coloured turquoise and another that’s orange, places two slices of toast onto each. 

Jackie’s smiling at her softly and Jan almost loses her concentration all over again. 

“Breakfast?”. Jan proposes. 

“Sure”. 

Jackie’s still smiling, lips curling gently at the corners. Her cheeks pucker with the movement and if Jan looks close enough then there’s a light dusting of blush growing on them. Jackie pushes herself away from the counter, and manoeuvres her way around Jan in order to get to the fridge. She pulls out their cartoon of orange juice - Jan doesn’t question why she doesn’t opt for her usual tea - and pours what’s left of its contents into two glasses. 

She slides one Jan’s way, and Jan mutters a  _ thanks _ . It’s another thing that’s forced but Jackie doesn’t comment on it, instead keeps smiling, interacting as if she doesn’t feel the same twisting in her gut and tug in her chest that Jan does. She takes a sip from her glass, and places the pan that Jan had used into the sink. They’re both sitting on the living room couch with their plates in their laps before Jan’s able to protest. 

“You make the best breakfast”. Jackie hums. 

“It’s hard to fuck up eggs and toast, Jackie”.

Jan knows that her comment is biting, but she doesn’t know where she stands with Jackie and it’s affecting her more than she thought it would. There’s a fire burning through her, and it’s made up of jealousy, frustration, confusion. They’d been building a rapport that had vanished as quick as it had appeared and Jan is still trying to decipher why. Jackie’s insistent simper doesn’t help her with the matter and she takes a bite of her toast to avoid digging herself any deeper into the hole that she’s created for herself. 

“Come on, are you telling me food just doesn’t taste  _ so _ much better when somebody else makes it for you?”. 

And Jan knows that it does, but admitting it doesn’t seem like an option. 

She knows that it does because of Jackie, and how Jan had never quite understood the term  _ made with love _ until she had been craving peanut butter cookies after midnight one sunday. The store had been out during the day and Jackie had made them for Jan despite not liking them herself, had sat with her until it was almost three in the morning whilst Jan worked her way through a whole batch. She’d felt nauseous by the time that she made it to bed at almost four but it had been worth it, to feel Jackie’s care embed itself within her. 

“I guess”. Jan settles. 

“You don’t think so?”.

“Maybe”. 

Jan shrugs, says it around another mouthful of toast. Jackie laughs along with her like it’s easy, and Jan pays a fraction too much attention to the way that shadows form on her face. Half of the room is light and half of it is dark as it always is before noon. The droplets of rain that have been smattering against the glass of the window for the better part of the morning are coming to a halt and Jackie points it out to her as she finishes her glass of juice. 

“I thought it’d rain all day-”. Jackie muses. 

“-We should do something”.

Jan’s first instinct is to say no, to decline any offer that Jackie throws her way. The thought of spending more time with Jackie than she needs to is grueling, makes her flinch. The camaraderie between them isn’t what it was and Jan doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it. She craves what it was and what she knows it can be once more; Jan wants Jackie in all of the ways that she’s certain Jackie doesn’t want her back. 

It’s evident in the distance that she’s put between them, and how neither try to shrink it. 

Yet Jan’s unable to help herself.

“Like what?”. Jan asks. 

Jackie, now finished with her breakfast, sets her plate down onto the coffee table. Jan follows the outstretch of the muscles of her arm and gulps at the way Jackie turns to smirk at her. She leans back against the couch, looks open and willing and kind. Jan wants to loathe her for it but finds herself unable to do so when Jackie’s digging her teeth into her bottom lip, looking hopeful. 

“Have you ever been up to the roof?”. 

Jan shakes her head no. 

Jackie’s mentioned it a handful of times, has told Jan stories of nights during the fall when she would carry an armful of blankets up through the fire escape, and would sit until the sun set with nothing but a novel for company. She’s also told Jan about the time that she and her friend Chelsea had smoked their way through the night until the crack of dawn, and Jan had listened intently, hung onto her every word. 

“Never”. 

Jackie’s grin widens, and then Jan is filled with regret. 

“Perfect”. 

*****

Jackie tells Jan that they’re going to do yoga. 

And Jan doesn’t protest. 

She tells Jackie that she doesn’t have a mat, but Jackie reassures her that she has two stashed away in her closet and Jan is able to do nothing but comply. They wait until the sun shines brighter in the sky and dries out the dampened side walks, and in that time Jackie washes up their dishes as Jan retreats to her room. She almost forgets that she’s still wearing her sleep shirt until Jackie points it out to her and she riffles through her drawers in search of workout gear. 

It’s been pushed towards the back of them since the beginning of lockdown, and pulling on purple leggings that she knows are her tightest pair feels exciting. She reaches for a sports bra that’s the slightest bit too small, secures her hair into a high ponytail. Maybe she does so on purpose but Jan doesn’t want to admit it, even as she eyes her cleavage in the mirror of her dresser, turns to examine her figure. 

Because Jan isn’t stupid. She knows that she looks good - her hips a little fuller than they used to be, arms still soft yet muscular - and wants Jackie to think so too. Jan is reminded of all the ways she wants Jackie when she steps back out into the living room after toeing on her sneakers, lacing them tightly. Jackie is perched on the kitchen counter, still clad in her sweatpants and sports bra and with two rolled up yoga mats sat at her feet. 

One is navy and the other is burgundy. They match the different shades that make up the fabric of Jackie’s bra, and Jan’s unable to take her eyes off of the way that Jackie’s chest rises and falls repeatedly as she breathes in and out. She’s hunched over, thumbs tapping at the screen of her phone with a mindless smile on her face, and Jan strides towards her. Jackie doesn’t look up from her phone until Jan clears her throat, but when she does, her eyes slink leisurely across Jan’s body. 

She sets down her phone, and Jan shelves her envy for another time because Jackie is smiling up at her instead of down at her screen. She tries not to smile triumphantly but can’t help the way that the corner of her mouth twitches, hints at a smirk. Jackie hums, grins, and then she’s pushing herself off of the countertop. She stands directly in front of Jan, leaves mere inches between them, and props her hands on her hips. 

“Ready?”. 

“We’ll find out”. Jan snorts. 

“I’ll go easy on you”. 

Jackie has the audacity to wink. Jan swallows down the lump in her throat, nods her head dumbly. She’s no stranger to sports or exercise - she’d done her fair share of track and soccer up until college - but she  _ is _ a stranger to having to do yoga with the added distraction of Jackie. Jan’s already unable to focus on much else apart from how the soft muscles of Jackie’s stomach flex as she bends down to pick up the mats, and it’s then that she knows she’s a lost cause. 

“I’ll be fine”. Jan says. 

And she doesn’t know whether she’s reassuring Jackie or herself. A part of her thinks that maybe the answer is both, because it’s more comforting than the alternative of just herself. Jackie’s looking at her like she doesn’t quite believe her and Jan doesn’t blame her for it. She places a hand on Jan’s shoulder, squeezes once before letting go. Jan’s skin beneath her touch is set aflame and it’s all that Jan thinks about as they lock up their apartment, take the stairs and climb two flights to the roof. 

When they get there, Jan has to catch her breath. She tells herself that it’s because of the lack of exercise that she’s done for the past month and not because she’d had to watch the sway of Jackie’s hips in front of her for the entire minute that it had taken. It’s a blatant lie but it’s as convincing as she’s going to get; her eyes had been glued to the swell of Jackie’s ass and Jackie had definitely caught her. 

“Nice views, huh?”. Jackie smirks. 

To say no feels unkind, but Jan hasn’t looked up yet. She’s barely managed to take in the grey flooring beneath her, and the short wall surrounding the edge of the building that’s made up of metal rods and bricks. The are planters filled with overgrown greenery and wild flowers spaced out sporadically between them, and as Jackie walks closer to the edge, Jan follows her wordlessly. 

Their building isn’t tall. Not by New York standards and not by normal standards either, but from six stories into the sky, Jan feels like she could reach up, touch her fingers to the clouds. She tilts her head back into the sun, the faint breeze that’s circling, and moves until she’s stood next to Jackie. Buildings tower around them, and there are birds chirping in the trees on the street below. Jan takes all of it with a soft smile because maybe Jackie had been right. 

“It’s nice”. Jan nods. 

“Told you”. 

Jackie had, but it doesn’t seem to matter. She’s rolling out their mats with a smirk on her face and Jan uses the time to stretch out the muscles of her calves. Her arms fall loose at her sides as Jackie sits down, crouches on her knees. She folds herself back onto her haunches and with one last glance around the roof, Jan copies her. The sun bounces between the both of them and Jan feels warmer than she had when she’d awakened that morning. 

“Should I put some music on?”. Jackie asks. 

The question is earnest, but Jan can’t help but snort out a laugh. Jackie frowns in response and Jan doesn’t miss the flash off hurt that appears briefly behind her eyes. Jan forces herself to straighten her face and shrugs her shoulders, this time with a soft smile. Jackie begins to backtrack and Jan wishes she’d kept her snicker to herself. 

“I don’t have to”. Jackie is quick to add. 

“Something peaceful?”. Jan offers. 

“Ok, yeah, something peaceful”. 

_ Something peaceful _ to Jackie apparently means orchestral music that Jan would class as sleep inducing. It makes Jackie smile, however, and Jan thinks that she could grow to like it. A handful of minutes pass before she changes her mind again; she decides that she loves it somewhere between the first and second beginner poses because Jackie’s soothing voice over the lull of the piano feels like heaven has descended upon them. 

They both settle into an easy lotus position, and Jan lets her eyes drift closed. The sense of serenity is something that she’s been lacking, and she exhales a contented hum. When her eyes open again Jackie is already looking at her, and Jan chances a grateful smile. Jackie returns it as she always does and Jan looks back towards the sky. 

“Straighten your back”. Jackie murmurs. 

“Like this?”.

“Shoulders back a little”. 

Jackie’s hands leave her own lap, and then they’re on Jan. One presses to the small of her back and the other touches the same spot of her shoulder that she’d touched in the kitchen. Jan swears that it’s still tingling and the sensation heightens further when Jackie drums her fingers against her skin, positions Jan with a tender patience and gentler simper. She lets go slowly, and when she does, Jan misses her immediately. 

“There-”. Jackie whispers. 

“-Is that better?”. 

“I think so”. 

“Looks good to me”. 

Jan doesn’t tell her that she can’t tell the difference in how her body feels. She’s too overtaken by goosebumps prickling at her skin, and the overwhelming want that’s thrumming through her blood. She wants to push Jackie back against the yoga mat, kiss her, palm at her chest and her nipple piercings that are visible through the fabric of her bra. She doesn’t understand how she hasn’t noticed them before but knows now that she has she won’t be able to look away. Her mouth is agape, her Jaw slack, and Jackie leans back onto her elbows as if she can read Jan’s mind. 

“Try stretching your arms above your head”. Jackie directs. 

Jan listens. 

“There you go-”. Jackie praises.

“-How does that feel?”.

“Like my arms are ‘gonna pop out of their sockets”. Jan huffs. 

She keeps them up and counts through ten seconds until she brings them back down. Jackie giggles, light and happy, and Jan hates it. She bites her teeth into her bottom lip to stop herself from pouting but Jackie’s reaching out, stroking a thumb across Jan’s shoulder. It’s soothing yet irritating beyond belief, and Jan involuntarily flinches at the contact. Jackie doesn’t pull away but Jan doesn’t confront her either; Jackie’s touch is soft and Jan is  _ not _ going to give in. 

Silence falls upon them and Jan’s own breathing is loud in her ears. She becomes hyper focused on it, on how it hitches and then deepens every time Jackie instructs her to switch positions, or alter her movements because she claims it’ll be beneficial for Jan’s form, her muscles. Jan doesn’t want to spend the following days aching and it’s why she complies to the best of her abilities. Her hamstrings burn when she stretches out her legs but Jackie reassures her that it’s normal, that it’s working. 

Jan doesn’t argue, but she does make sure Jackie knows that she isn’t thrilled about it by glaring at her with eyes that are filled with rage. They pierce through the thick air between them, but Jackie doesn’t falter. She conducts Jan with a graceful ease, her own body twisting into each contortion without so much as a second thought. Jan would envy her for it but there’s no more space for jealousy within her. It’s all piling up, and Jan’s just waiting for it to overflow. 

“How the  _ fuck _ are you doing that?”. Jan grunts. 

“Practice”. 

Jackie winks again. 

“I give up”. Jan sighs. 

A pout does form on her face this time, and Jackie cocks an eyebrow, raises a silent challenge. Jan ignores her, lets herself fall dramatically back onto the mat. She stares up at the sky, watches as the clouds pass above her. They’re moving as slow as Jan’s thoughts, and she huffs indignantly while Jackie eases herself out of her position. Jan doubts she could name it if she tried and it’s why she pays her no mind. 

Or tries not to. 

Jackie makes it hard to do so. She groans as she stretches her legs out in front of her, and then leans back onto her elbows. The breath that she then exhales sounds too close to a moan for Jan’s pulse not to quicken, and her gaze doesn’t stay on the clouds for much longer. Jackie is reclining on her elbows and Jan’s head is turning towards her, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat forming along her brow. 

The irony of the situation isn’t lost on Jan. They’re surrounded by views that Jan would normally be gawking at but with Jackie’s chest heaving, the muscles of her abdomen more prominent than Jan’s ever seen them, it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than Jackie and Jackie only. Jan brushes at her forehead feebly, wipes her sweat off on the damp fabric of her bra, and Jackie’s looking smug. 

“Are you feeling ok?”. Jackie checks. 

Jan can feel the colour draining from her face one drop of sweat at a time. Her cheeks that were on fire mere moments ago begin to blanch, and Jackie’s face goes from smug to concerned. Jan presses her hand to her forehead once more, and Jackie looks like she’s about to speak before Jan beats her to it. Her head whips to the side, heart clenching and stomach dropping simultaneously. 

“Actually-”. 

Jan sits bolt upright.

“-I’m not feeling too good, I’m ‘gonna take a shower”. 

She pushes herself up, stands on unsteady feet. Her body feels like it doesn’t belong to her, and there’s a persistent ringing in her ears. Over it, she’s able to hear Jackie calling after her, but Jan wants to be anywhere other than sat next to her. Jackie is stirring feelings within her that she’s never felt quite as intensely before and it’s new, startling. Jan is opening the door to the fire escape with trembling hands and Jackie’s footsteps are thudding after her. 

“Jan, wait, please-”.

But the doors already slammed behind her. 

*****

Jan takes her shower, switches it most of the way to cold. 

It beats down on her skin and does its job of cooling her from the outside in. She lathers herself in lemon body wash that she finds tucked at the back of the shelf, massages it into suds until it washes her acrimony down the drain. It takes a while, but as she reaches for her apple shampoo, works it into her scalp, she begins to feel clean, untainted. The soap runs down her back, and she tilts her head towards the stream of water; the steam is fresh around her and Jan breathes it deep into her lungs. 

If she tries hard enough, she’s able to place herself away from the apartment and in the process, away from thoughts of Jackie. She thinks of possibilities of a world beyond their four walls, and what she’ll do when the city adjusts to a new normal. A simple part of her just wants to gnaw her teeth into a burrito from her favourite family run mexican restaurant that’s a couple of blocks away, but the other parts want  _ more _ . 

She wants to sing again, not just to a pixelated face through the screen of her computer, and longs to tune into the early monday morning news and not feel dread pooling in her gut as she watches. Jan also wants to see the people she loves, because there’s a level of adoration that can be conveyed through an embrace that can’t through a crackling phone line. There’s her mom and dad in Jersey, and then Rosé and Lagoona that don’t live more than ten minutes away. 

Jan also wants to chastise them for their inability to not crash back together as they always do but knows that it would be hypocritical of her. She’s been looking at Jackie with the same intensity that Lagoona offers Rosé and her feelings are only growing. Jan lets out a groan as she realises it and is reminded of it over and over again when thoughts of Jackie seemingly swirl back out of the drain, twist through her scalp and into her mind. 

Her body begins to heat once more, and this time Jan doesn’t fight it. She steps out of the shower just as scorching as she’d entered it and walks back towards her room with a scowl upon her face. She leaves a trail of wet footprints along the hardwood floor of the corridor, ignoring the way that her hair drips down her back. She has a towel wrapped loosely around her body but as soon as she’s back in the safety of her own room she lets it drop to the floor. 

Jan crosses the room to sit at her dresser. 

She works her damp hair into two braids, knows it’s warm enough that they’ll air dry by the time that she falls to sleep later that night, or into the early hours of the morning. They’re secured with the same scrunchies that she always gravitates towards, one a pale blue and the other a neon pink. Jan flips both of the braids behind her shoulders and stands to draw both of her curtains; she might be comfortable with her body but nobody in New York needs to see a twenty-five year old woman sprawled naked across her bed at six o’clock. 

Jan relaxes back into her pillows, reaches for her phone, her headphone, and her switch. 

She plans to play animal crossing, eat her way through the stash of snacks in her bedside drawer and not move for the rest of the night. 

*****

It’s a little after nine, and the sky is gleaming navy. 

The hue seeps into Jan’s room, permeates through the curtains, and the lilac of her sheets begin to appear grey. It happens every night, but Jan still marvels at how  _ the city that never sleeps _ does just that. New york falls into a slumber, albeit a light one, and Jan feels calmer knowing that she’s able to shut off along with it. 

She pulls the earphones free from her ears, unplugs them from her phone. She’s been streaming the entire  _ Seussical _ soundtrack in the attempt to feel lighter, and trying to fish for a coelacanth on animal crossing just to give herself a purpose. Neither work, but as her room gets darker and the temperature grows cooler, she realises that they don’t have to. She’s allowed to wallow in her frustrations and doesn’t have to downplay them. 

Jan thinks that she could fall asleep by the end of the hour. Her body feels like one with her mattress, and she forgets that she’d ever berated it for being uncomfortable. She has her legs sprawled out on top of her blankets because it’d be too warm if she slipped under them, and her head is bracketed by the softness of her pillows. There’s a lit cinnamon candle on her bedside table - another that Jackie had coaxed into her hands - and when she breathes it in, her eyes drift closed. 

She’ll extinguish the flame before she drifts off, but for now Jan enjoys it, lazes in the satisfaction that comes with the quieter hour, the stillness of the apartment. The living area is silent, neither herself or Jackie having chosen to lounge there. There’s no noise coming from the usually rattling pipes, either, or from the street below and Jan almost switches off entirely until -

\- There’s a sound coming from Jackie’s room. 

At first, Jan almost doesn’t notice it. It’s quiet, barely there, but then it happens again. It becomes louder, gradually, and Jan can feel the heat rising in her cheeks once more. The flames blast through her, turn her bones to ashes, because Jackie is  _ moaning _ , and Jan can hear it, audible through the wall separating them. 

They’re faint to begin with but they’re undeniably there, and as they increase in volume Jan’s hands grip tighter at her bed sheets. Her nails dig into them, and there’s a sheen of sweat forming on her skin that wasn’t there before. She’s on her way to reaching for her headphones to plug them back into her phone but a tugging in the pit of her stomach stops her. It spreads quickly to between her legs and Jan can’t bring herself to want to block out the sounds. 

Jackie sounds - ethereal. 

Her moans are pretty and breathy but she’s also panting and Jan thinks that it’s maybe, definitely worth listening to. There are some things that deserve undivided attention, Jan thinks, and Jackie’s pleasure is one of them. A part of her feels guilty for intruding on a moment that’s so personal, as deeply intimate, but Jan doesn’t have time to consider it further when she presses her legs together subconsciously. 

Jan listens closer. Her vision becomes hazy, and she picks a nondescript point on the ceiling to stare at. There’s a small crack that runs from one end to the other, and as Jan stares at it she trails a hand down her stomach. She rests it against her abdomen and contemplates how it got there in the first place because she doesn’t remember putting it there; all Jan knows is that her pussy is getting wet and Jackie is the reason why. 

The moans heighten in pitch, and as a faint  _ fuck _ reverberates around the room, Jan’s touch trails lower. She spreads her bare legs against her sheets, fists one hand into the fabric of them as the other strokes at her inner thighs. Her fingers quickly move towards her pussy and Jan’s world has narrowed to just Jackie, and the wetness that coats her fingers. 

Beyond the curtains of her window, the city has fallen into darkness. Jan’s room is the same and it only serves to amplify her senses. She’s able to make out the shadow of her hardened nipples as she peers down the length of her body, as well as the light of the flame of the candle that’s still flickering away next to her. Her ears are burning with Jackie’s moans that are still somehow becoming louder, more desperate, and Jan’s never been more certain of the attraction, the want and need that she feels for her. 

It should be overwhelming, should be worrying.

Jan doesn’t dwell on it as her fingers start rubbing small circles into her clit. The hand that had been bunched into her blanket tightens and then lets go, snakes its way up to her chest. She takes both nipples alternately between her thumb and forefinger, pinches just hard enough. The ache makes her smile, and to quiet her whines she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. They leave behind red indentations but it’s another thing added to the list that Jan will unpack another time. 

If she’s feeling brave enough. 

Jan is close and it’s been no time at all. She’s whining as loud as Jackie is moaning and together they form a chorus that Jan doesn’t want to stop playing. She curls two fingers inside of herself, pulls them out and drags the wetness back up to her clit. Drawing circles around it, Jan’s breathing becomes frantic. The muscles in her stomach are tensing, and she’s dripping down between her thighs, onto the cotton of her sheets. They’re sticking to her skin but it’s the least of her worries; the pumps the same two fingers back inside of her pussy and focuses on Jackie’s mewls. 

_ Please _ . 

_ Yes _ . 

_ Fuck _ .

“Oh my god”. Jan whines. 

She doesn’t realise that she’d said it outloud until she repeats herself. Twice. Jackie’s moans are getting closer together, more staccato, and Jan’s whining high in her throat. Her fingers struggle for friction - her palm is soaked, glistening - but she doubles her efforts quickly. She has her eyes scrunched closed, mouth agape, and as a groan gets caught in her chest she lets her jaw snap shut. 

“ _ Jackie _ ”. 

Her name slips out before Jan’s able to stop it. Jackie’s name tumbles off of her tongue and it’s too late to take it back because she’s coming, in unison with Jackie’s final wail. It echoes in her ears, seductive and captivating, and it makes her clench down even harder around her fingers. Jackie whimpers quietly through the wall until Jan pulls her fingers out, wipes them off on her stomach. 

Jan lays there, panting, and giggles airily. A soft thud comes from the opposite side of the wall and then Jackie is chuckling along with her and it feels like a confirmation. Jan knocks on the wall three times with her knuckles, and Jackie knocks back. Jan grins up towards her ceiling as she listens to the springs of Jackie’s mattress, and then Jackie’s voice filled with humour. 

“G’night Jan!”. 

Jan buries her head into a pillow. 

“Night Jacks!”. 

And then the apartment is silent once more. 

Jan falls asleep with come drying on her thighs and Jackie wreaking havoc in her mind. 


	6. day thirty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s unable to make sense of it. Her and Jackie fall back and forth between a simple understanding and an uncomfortable tension as easily as the sun rises and sets each day. It shouldn’t be as torrid, because she’s not dating Jackie, no matter how much she maybe wishes she was. They’re not even friends, really, and Jan wonders if they’ll always just be roommates who developed a circumstantial connection even if she knows that it’s more than that. 
> 
> It has to be more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends!! i can't believe we're over halfway through this, but hol and i are having so much fun creating this!! the comments about the last ch we're lovely, and we hope you like this part too!! 
> 
> writing and reading has always been an escape for me, but i'd also like to add [this](https://linktr.ee/blacklivesmatter) link that's a compilation of super useful resources regarding the blm movement. please keep spreading awareness and donate if you can, and remember that black lives matter today and always. 
> 
> all of my love<3

It’s been over a month, and Jackie is losing track of time. 

Days blur into one, and every day that she awakens, too warm and wrapped in her duvet, she feels as if she’s going to keep reliving the same week over and over again. The sage green fabric of her blankets stick to her sweaty skin, cling too tightly to her legs. She kicks them away feebly and wonders if the universe is playing one long, grueling trick on her. It feels like groundhog day, but only it’s worse, and as she listens to the near silence of the world outside on day thirty-something, she huffs in frustration. 

The weather is getting brighter every day, but Jackie’s never felt more dimmed. She’s squinting against the light strobing through her curtains and doesn’t know why she hasn’t invested in blackout ones yet. She’s lived in the apartment for too long to still be dealing with the blinding effects of the sun that heighten in the summer months, and turning her body the opposite way and away from the window does little to help. 

She buries her head half into a pillow but quickly pulls back. It only serves to bring more heat to her body that she doesn’t need and it’s too uncomfortable. She feels claustrophobic, clothed in only a pair of black panties and a maroon sports bra. They feel like a second skin and Jackie wants to shed them, leave them behind. She doesn’t do so, but she thinks about it, pictures peeling off the offending garments.

The only thing that stops her is the possibility of crawling out of bed in order to take a cold shower. The thought of the frigid water against her skin sends a jolt down her spine, makes goosebumps prickle at her arms. She rubs at them subconsciously, and as they begin to fade, Jackie sits up in bed. Her feet plant themselves onto the hardwood floor and when she finds that even  _ they _ are warm, Jackie knows that the day is going to be too hot to bear. 

There’s a towel sat on the back of her chair that’s tucked under her dresser, and she folds it under her arm as she yanks open the curtains. When she does, the room becomes even brighter, and Jackie double checks that her glasses are on hand for when she emerges from the shower. They’re placed on her bedside table as she had expected, and she wants to kick herself for leaving them lens-side down the night before; her eyesight is questionable at the best of times and scratches on her glasses aren’t going to help the matter. 

Opening her bedroom door, Jackie is met with silence. She knows that it’s too early for Jan to be awake and functioning yet and at one point the fact would have saddened her but now it puts her at ease. They've been dancing circles around each other for a handful of days and Jackie would be delusional if she didn’t know why. The atmosphere that surrounds them is awkward yet electric, and Jackie has become unable to look Jan in the eye without hearing her whines. 

She remembers them vividly, as if they’re happening continually. 

Jan had moaned out her name and every time that Jackie closes her eyes, she has to fight to not fantasise about what Jan would have looked like doing so. Jackie imagines her sprawled out across her bed, the smell of her lavender fabric softener and cinnamon of one of her candles strong in the air. She pictures Jan’s arms, soft yet muscular, and her delicate back arching off of the bed. She also thinks about Jan’s thighs and how they would tremble, but when she thinks about Jan’s fingers pumping inside of herself it becomes too much for Jackie to handle. 

Jackie is only human, and she thinks the thought of Jan touching herself would be enough to make anybody falter. It has Jackie taking her showers colder and longer than she usually would, and makes her blush more than she has before. Jan, for her part, acts like nothing has happened and it shakes Jackie more than she cares to admit. 

They still make dinner together every night, and even venture to the roof for another yoga session despite Jan complaining of persistently aching muscles. Jackie coaches her into poses and Jan accepts every challenge even as she protests. The second time that they do it, acoustic music playing in the background, Jan wears a sports bra that’s even tighter than the one that she wore the first time and it takes all of Jackie’s energy not to pull her into a kiss. 

Her eyes flicker to Jan’s lips before they travel back to her eyes and that’s where they stay, briefly. In Jan’s eyes there’s a tenderness that she doesn’t expect, but it disappears before Jackie’s able to analyse it, capture it and treasure it. Jan’s body is alluring but so is her soul; Jackie admires the sheer goodness that she harbours, the way that she uses it sparingly yet in its entirety. 

Jackie lets the thoughts wash over her, along with the water trailing down her body. She watches the suds of her shower gel trickle down her drain, and presses a hand to the chill of the tiles on the wall in an attempt to centre herself. It doesn’t work - she hadn’t expected it to - and she lets her hand slip, fall to her side. Jackie finishes rinsing her skin and switches off the water, steps out of the shower. She’d opened the bathroom windows wide and the breeze against her still damp skin is calming. 

She wraps herself in her towel. It grazes the tops of her thighs and as she picks up her laundry, traipses back to her room, Jan remains heavy on her mind. It’s nearing nine in the morning, and if Jackie has learnt anything about Jan’s disorderly body clock it’s that she’ll either be waking up in two hours or five minutes. It turns out to be the latter and Jackie shrugs off her towel at the first signs of life coming from Jan’s room. 

First comes the creaking of her bed, and then the groan that she releases when she wakes up from sleeping, everytime without fail. Jackie has heard it when Jan has fallen asleep on the couch with her, woken up from a short nap, and she hears it every morning through the walls, too. Jackie then listens to the quiet patter of her feets as she makes her way around her room. They’re light to start with but grow louder as Jan becomes more awake, more alert and confident of her surroundings. Jackie has witnessed her fumble around their kitchen on many a tiring evening and she recalls each memory with fondness. 

As she rifles through her closet, Jackie decides that something,  _ anything _ has to give. 

There’s only so much more of the unspoken avoidance that she’s able to deal with, and she sits down at her dresser after throwing on a plain white shirt and gym shorts with the intention of only brushing out her hair. She detangles any knots with a wide tooth comb at first, and then loosens her waves with a brush. Jackie doesn’t realise that she’s reaching for mascara, and then a tinted lip balm until they’re already on her face; Jackie has to remind herself that there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do. 

Except there is. 

Jackie’s phone is sat next to her, and the screen of it lights up ominously. It almost vibrates off of her dresser but she’s swift to pick it up, take in both notifications. There’s a smile threatening to curl around her lips from the instant that she processes who they’re from, and she swipes through in order to type out a response. 

She doesn’t think it through. There’s not a question in her mind about declining, saying no, because if something is going to give then Jackie knows that she’s going to have to make it do so. Her thumbs tap across the screen, and she smiles down at it, wide and hopeful. She’s able to hear Jan making her way to the kitchen and it only serves to reinforce her decision. Jackie looks back towards herself in the mirror, fills with both confidence and nerves, excitement and worry. 

**Brooke**

_ I look really cute today  _

_ Let’s make that roommate of yours jealous  _

*****

Jan is already in the kitchen when Jackie leaves her bedroom, laptop clutched in her grasp. 

She looks up from the bacon that she’s flipping in a pan on the stove, grimaces against the spittles. Her hand rises, fork still within her grasp, and she offers Jackie a minute wave. Jackie waves back once she’s set her laptop down on the opposite side of the kitchen counter, and props her hip against the cupboard. There’s an island of wood separating them but Jackie still smiles, and Jan nods towards the two plates and matching cups that she’s already retrieved from the drying rack.

Both curtains in the living room are wide open, and it drowns them in the same grey that has followed from Jackie’s bedroom. It’s beginning to rain, lightly, and Jackie can’t remember the last time she felt rain kissing at her skin. It’s trickling down the glass of their windows and Jackie is hypnotised by it. Each spherical droplet becomes nothingness, and Jan is clearing her throat to get Jackie’s attention back on her as if it had ever left in the first place. 

“Jacqueline?”. Jan sings. 

“Hm?”. 

“Juice? Tea?”. 

“Oh-”. Jackie simpers. 

“-Tea would be great”. 

A mumbled  _ thanks _ follows, and Jan reaches to the teas in their cupboard with a practiced ease. Jackie thinks that Jan knows her well enough to remember that on dull mornings Jackie will always opt for chamomile, and she’s proven right when Jan doesn’t have to ask her. Instead she selects the box wordlessly, puts the tea bag in Jackie’s preferred burgundy mug and pours water from the freshly boiled kettle into it. 

She stirs it and lets it brew, and as she does so, Jackie opens up her laptop. Her finger clicks on the facetime app, and it buffers before loading. The signal in their apartment has never been the best and she has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the jutter of her screen. Over the edge of it, she watches Jan, and feels the guilt of the stunt she’s about to pull filling her lungs like concrete. Jan smiles earnestly, and Jackie forces her own smile as she’s served a plate of eggs, bacon and toast. 

With her perfectly made tea on the side. 

Jan has added a spoonful of honey for sweetness, and when Jackie asks why Jan simply tells her that she looks like she needs it. Jackie doesn’t disagree, because Jan is right as she always is. Her gaze drops to her laptop once more and before Jan picks up her own plate, she points towards a stool in the corner of the room. It’s meant for their kitchen counter come breakfast bar that they rarely use; Jan argues that the couch is comfier and it’s another thing that Jackie doesn’t disagree with her about. 

“You’re not ‘gonna eat breakfast standing up, are you?”. Jan laughs. 

And Jackie was planning to do just that, but she’s not going to admit it to Jan. 

So she shakes her head, mumbles a distant  _ no _ , and clicks on Brooke’s contact before trudging to pick up the stool. It’s no more than ten steps, but it feels like the longest distance that Jackie’s ever walked when Jan’s eyes are still on her, piercing. Her fingers wrap around the wood of the stool and she hauls it gracelessly back to where her laptop is sat on the kitchen counter, her plate of food and mug of tea steaming away. 

Jan makes her way to the couch, her own plate in her hand, and seemingly settles comfortably. Jackie keeps her back to her but listens to Jan’s hum as she takes her first bite, and then the noise of the tv that quickly fills the room. Everything feels eerily peaceful, and Jackie would feel bad for ruining it if it didn’t need to happen; she knows that it’s long overdue and can only hope that Jan’s feelings are mutual. 

She clicks  _ call _ without further hesitation, and allows the ringing of it to join the buzz of the tv. Around a mouthful of food, Jan murmurs, and while she waits for the call to connect, Jackie turns towards her. She raises an eyebrow, crosses her right leg over the left. 

“Who’re you calling?”. Jan murmurs. 

Jackie knows that she’s got her. 

“Just Brooke”. She answers. 

Jackie says it with a lilt to her voice, and turns back to her laptop with a smirk. Jan is frowning into her portion of scrambled eggs and Jackie doesn’t mean to laugh but a giggle escapes her lips before she’s able to stop it. She takes a sip of her tea - it’s cooling rapidly but the pleasant heat still scalds her throat - and sets it back down as the call connects, buffers once before the screen is clear. 

Brooke answers the call wearing only her bra. 

Because she’s Brooke. 

And Jackie has to hold back to smirk because if this doesn’t make Jan snap then nothing will. Jackie is certain of it, and shamelessly admires the cobalt lace against Brooke’s California sunkissed skin, her long blonde hair that she has tossed over one shoulder. The skin that’s exposed is covered in constellations of freckles and Jackie connects them with her eyes, makes a show out of doing so. 

Her face isn’t visible to Jan from the angle that she’s sat but she knows that Jan is smart, intuitive, and won’t need to in order to decipher the dynamic between them. Jackie flips her own hair over her shoulder, straightens her posture and rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Brooke waves her greeting, beams into the camera, and Jackie mentally prepares herself for the worst while hoping for the best. 

The best being a breakthrough with Jan. 

“Hey baby!”. Brooke grins. 

Jackie leans forward on her elbows, ducks her head in a feigned blush. It’s a little before eleven in the morning in New York, which means over on the East Coast it’s not even eight yet. Jackie doesn’t understand how Brooke looks more put together than Jackie thinks she herself has looked in weeks but she doesn’t question it, either. Brooke hadn’t been lying when she looks cute and Jackie rationalises that she should tell her, if only to make Jan jealous as planned. 

“Oh, you do look cute”. Jackie winks. 

“What did you expect, angel?”.

At Brooke’s words, it’s confirmed to Jackie that she’s chosen the right woman for the job. She couldn’t have expected Vanessa to do the same, even if it was her idea originally. Jackie knows that they would have been laughing before beginning the conversation, wouldn’t have made it through the first seconds. The same could be said for Chelsea, or Monèt, and Jackie could have never asked Bob for fear of Bob reminding her of the truth that she’s been avoiding; that everything could be solved if she and Jan were simply to  _ talk _ . 

Jackie might be twenty-seven but her levels of useless lesbianism aren’t decreasing with age. It’s why she bats her eyelashes at Brooke, tilts her head to the side. She smiles softly, lets Brooke take her in with a smirk that’s becoming a permanent fixture on her face. Brooke licks across her lips, stretches her arms forward so that her cleavage becomes more pronounced. There’s a light sheen of sweet decorating her collar bones and Jackie guesses that the weather in California isn’t keeping up with the dreariness of New York. 

Diverting her gaze momentarily, she finds Jan staring directly at the screen of the tv. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink, and Jackie frowns before refocusing on the conversation at hand. Brooke is already hitting her with questions, and they’re coming a million miles a minute. Her tone is sultry, luxurious, and Jackie might not think of herself as inherently sexy but she didn’t study a minor in acting in college for nothing. 

She decides to put it to good use, and matches Brooke’s flirtation. Her efforts double, and she amplifies the teasing air of her voice, wraps it in silk and hands it to Brooke. Brooke takes it gladly, and begins to weave it between her fingers. The tension is palpable even with the thousands of miles between them and Jackie bites at her lip, is careful not to press too hard. Behind Brooke, the sun flickers, and behind Jackie, Jan sighs. 

“How’s your day been so far?”. Brooke tries. 

“ _ So _ good-”. Jackie dramatises. 

“-I took the nicest shower this morning, it was so relaxing”. 

She drawls out her words even if they aren’t entirely true. Jackie’s shower had consisted of mainly contemplation and very little calm, her thoughts of Jan leaving little room for rest and relaxation. Brooke doesn’t need to know about it, but she does need to understand the direction of the conversation. Jackie winks blatantly at her and Brooke gets it, easily, reroutes and takes the correct turn. Jackie nods her head in a faint movement of confirmation, one that’s small enough to not cause suspicion to stir in Jan if she were to catch her. 

“A relaxing shower, huh? Did you think of me?”. 

At that, Jackie blushes fiercely. Because it might not be real and their whole rapport may be convoluted but it’s been a long time since Jackie has explicitly flirted with somebody. She no longer feels like Jan counts when they’ve been going in circles for so long and so slowly. Jan automatically feels like so much more when Jackie thinks back to all of the tender nights that they’ve shared, talking and laughing on the couch, and the raw, vulnerable mornings too. 

When Jackie neglects to answer, too caught in her mind, Brooke fills in the gaps. She smiles reassuringly, mouths an _ I’ve got you _ , and continues their conversation as if Jackie’s brain hasn’t checked out. Behind her, Jan has turned the volume of the tv up a couple of notches and Jackie doesn’t miss it. She turns the volume of her laptop up too in order to counteract it and Jan huffs in frustration. 

“You look so cute-”. Brooke teases. 

“-Look at that pretty smile”. She coos. 

If Jackie didn’t know any better, she would believe Brooke’s performance. She’s eye-fucking Jackie through the camera, and Jackie almost forgets that beyond the facade they’re friends who are merely acting. Jackie tells herself that it’s for a good cause - the cause being Jan - and reminds herself that Brooke has been with Vanessa for nearly ten years, engaged to her for almost four. The situation is laughable; the volume on the tv goes from being loud to silent and Jackie can feel her body being enveloped by the tension. 

It goes on for longer than Jackie had planned and becomes more intense than she had intended. Brooke volleys effortlessly with her, quips comments back and forth like they’re featherlight, and not the weighted bricks that they are. Jan still sits behind her with the tv on mute but Jackie doesn’t turn to look at her. Not yet, she convinces herself, because she knows that if she does then she’s going to give in. 

And it’s not the time. 

Brooke is still playing the game, pretending to hang off of Jackie’s every word as she flips her hair dramatically, looks to the camera with hooded eyes. Her normally blue irises grow dark, tinge with hints of green, and Jackie tries her hardest to focus on them. The straps of Brooke’s bra begin to slip towards the end of the call and Jackie points it out to her with an airy giggle. Brooke doesn’t adjust them but Jackie doesn’t care. There’s movement from behind her and Jan is standing, striding across the room until she’s stood at Jackie’s side. 

She keeps herself hidden strategically from Brooke’s view, but her presence is strong, commanding. Electricity reverberates between them and Jackie’s able to sense the bolts that Jan’s firing her way. She turns to Brooke, smiles, and offers her one last smirk. Brooke returns it because she’s Brooke - and because she’s a Pisces - and pushes her cleavage together with her arms. Jackie knows that Jan notices because she’s far from stupid, and she shifts an inch or so closer. 

“Hey babe, I’m ‘gonna have to go”. Jackie announces. 

She accompanies it with a wink so that Brooke understands. 

“Oh, don’t let me keep you, sweetie-”. Brooke soothes. 

She brings a hand to her hair, tucks a strand of it behind her ear. It’s golden, like silk, and it falls down her shoulders in strands that reflect the early morning light. The weather in New York still hasn’t caught up and Jackie doesn’t think it will for the remainder of the day. She takes in the clouds that are looming beyond the living room windows, and then the storm brewing behind Jan’s eyes. There’s thunder and hail and Jackie’s going to bear the brunt of it.

“-Tell Jan I said hi, yeah?”. 

As Brooke finishes her sentence, Jan’s hands that have been resting on the countertop begin to grip even tighter. Jackie watches as her knuckles become red, and then white, before Jan drops them to her sides. She fists them in the fabric of her shirt instead and Jackie’s worried that she’s going to tear the fabric. The shirt is one of Jan’s favourites, and it’s why Jackie reaches out, wraps her fingers delicately around one of Jan’s wrists. 

She looks up softly, smiles. 

“I’ll tell her”. Jackie says. 

Only she won’t have to. 

Jan hears Brooke clearly, and there’s a hint of a smile forming. It quickly disappears as the call disconnects, and Jackie closes the lid of her laptop with her free hand. Jan loosens her iron grip on her shirt, and then her arm becomes limp within Jackie’s grasp. The apartment is screaming in silence and Jackie strokes her thumb across Jan’s knuckles, swipes across them gently. They’re being drenched in greys, silvers, and Jackie’s seen Jan up close like this a hundred times before, has seen her even closer, but this time it feels - 

\- Different. 

_ New _ . 

Arching her eyebrows, Jan laces her fingers with Jackie’s. They slot together in a way that Jackie’s become accustomed to and when Jan doesn’t pull away she takes it as a promising sign. There’s a hesitance that’s present, but Jackie thinks that it could be easily put aside. She continues to think so until Jan drops her hand abruptly, detangles their fingers as if they had been a tangled nuisance. Jackie’s jaw slackens but she doesn’t know why she’s surprised; there’s hurt lingering in Jan’s eyes and tears that are quickly joining them. 

“What’s wrong, honey?”. Jackie softens. 

Jan’s face crumples. There are tears mounting rapidly, gathering in the corners of her eyes. Jackie thinks about wiping them away for her but knows better when Jan shakes her head defiantly. She takes a step backwards, adamant and determined. Her teeth are clenched and the hurricane blooming outwards from her chest is bringing the whole room down with it. Jackie is stood in the centre of it’s path but Jan is backing away, moving further and further towards the exit. 

“Fuck you”. Jan spits. 

It hurts.

Crushes. 

And Jackie thinks that she deserves it. 

*****

Jan slams her bedroom door behind herself. 

The hollow thud echoes around the apartment, before a gut wrenching silence follows. Jan perches cautiously on the edge of her bed as if making too sudden of a movement will cause the walls to crumble around her, bury her in rubble that she won’t be able to dig herself out from. Her heart is knocking like it’s going to break if it hasn’t already, and Jan feels dizzy with the pain, anger. There are tears in her eyes, beginning to fall down her cheeks, but Jan doesn’t wipe them away.

She lets herself sit in it, tries to unpick the reasons behind each one that falls. They land on her thighs, form rivers and then lakes, but Jan’s arms feel too much like deadweights for her to lift them and dry her eyes. She ducks her head, slumps her shoulders, and lets her chest heave in the breaths that she’s gasping for; Jackie had stolen the air from within her lungs and Jan doesn’t know if she’s going to get it back.

The afternoon is rolling around, and the stark white sky outside feels too bright. The greys are fading, being replaced by warmer fragments of yellow sun. Jan stares through her tears and to the blues beyond her curtains, pictures herself soaring between the skyscrapers that are far off in the distance. It gives herself something to look at, something to fixate on that isn’t the ache settling throughout her body or the chant of _ why why why _ that’s ringing in her ears. 

She’s unable to make sense of it. Her and Jackie fall back and forth between a simple understanding and an uncomfortable tension as easily as the sun rises and sets each day. It shouldn’t be as torrid, because she’s not dating Jackie, no matter how much she maybe wishes she was. They’re not even friends, really, and Jan wonders if they’ll always just be roommates who developed a circumstantial connection even if she knows that it’s more than that. 

It  _ has _ to be more than that. 

Jan’s heart is yearning as much as her body and it hurts, bruises. She scrunches her eyes closed, clears the glaze forming on them and lays back onto her bed. It’s still unmade - she’d only rolled out from it a few hours ago - and it’s easy to sink back into the pillows, the sheets that she wraps like a shield around her body. They smell like lavender once more and it feels like the aftermath of the storm; she thinks about how people always talk about the calm before it but never the peace that can come with the debris. 

It’s often better, or reaffirming, and despite feeling weathered Jan also feels renewed. She feels cleansed, free from any pretenses, and it’s as if a reset button has been pressed. Jan spends the next hours drifting in and out of a serene sleep that her body tells her it needs. She listens to it, for once, and doesn’t battle against the droop of her eyelids. It lasts until the late afternoon is merging with the early evening and the sky outside isn’t quite as bright. 

The clouds are still there, but more dispersed. There’s a faint golden hue that’s becoming all encompassing, and Jan leans into it as it leaks to every corner of her room. The cinnamon candle on her bedside table isn’t lit but she’s still able to smell the wax of it. It’s homely, soothing, and Jan smiles subconsciously at it. She presses her fingers to her lips, feels them curl into a smile beneath her touch as she sits up against her headboard. 

It digs into her back, and despite being irritating Jan doesn’t make an attempt to move further. The previous morning feels like a bizarre fever dream and Jan forgets that it had actually happened until the sound of the tv playing in the living room makes its way to her ears. It’s not loud, is barely audible, but it tells Jan that Jackie is there and it’s all that she needs to know. Because it might have taken six hours and many naps in between but the thought of Jackie doesn’t make her fists clench anymore. 

Instead it makes her feel whole.

As it has since she’s known her. 

Their communication is flawed but Jan wants to do better, together, and she lifts herself out of bed with the intention of doing so. She reaches into her drawer that’s still stocked with snacks on the way to her door, finds a peanut butter chocolate bar that she knows to be one of Jackie’s favorites. She holds it tightly, isn’t worried about it melting thanks to the drop in temperature outside, and pulls on a pair of grey ankle socks before leaving her room. 

The walk to the living area feels long, but it’s still not enough time for Jan to prepare herself for the sight that greets her. The orange light of the street lamps that have just switched on mingle with the blue tone of the tv screen. Combined, they mix warmth and cold, and Jackie is sat at the intersection of them, is curled beneath a blanket on one side of the couch. She has her arms wrapped around her knees, and looks up towards Jan who’s shuffling quietly to join her. 

At first, she’s hesitant. Jan doesn’t mean to be but the last words she’d said to Jackie had been a resentful  _ fuck you _ and they still weight heavily on her conscience. Jackie smiles earnestly, reassuringly, and Jan realises that they don’t have to. She takes another step forward, and as she approaches the couch, the aroma of Jackie’s mug of chamomile wafting in the air, she holds out the chocolate bar in her hand. Jackie looks between the red of the wrapper and the blush of Jan’s cheeks before giggling, reaching out a hand. 

“For me?”. Jackie asks. 

Jan nods her head in confirmation. 

“I know it’s your favourite”. She whispers. 

Jackie smiles full of adoration, takes the chocolate bar with a gracious  _ thank you _ . Jan retreats briefly to the kitchen so that she doesn’t fall too deep into the pools of Jackie’s eyes, and pours herself a glass of water. Her mouth is dry, parched, and she gulps half of it down on her way back to the couch. Jackie’s eyes still haven’t left her and they soften further when Jan places her half full glass onto the coffee table, visibly deliberates whether she should join Jackie or make herself scarce. 

As if sensing Jan’s inner conflict, Jackie laughs openly. She peels back the blanket from her lap, untucks her legs from her chest. It’s almost enough to have Jan tearing up once more but she blinks them away, fiddles with the hem of her oversized shirt. Jackie reaches out the hand that isn’t still holding the chocolate bar and Jan takes it tentatively, lets herself be pulled gently down onto the couch. She drapes the blanket across the both of them and Jan nuzzles into it, folds her legs beneath herself. 

“Come here”. Jackie simpers. 

Her arm loops around Jan’s shoulder as if she doesn’t even think of it, and Jan finds herself curled up against Jackie’s chest. She isn’t able to hear the beat of her heart over the volume of the tv but she is able to feel it, and it’s enough for Jan’s mind to be whirring once more. Jackie’s thumb begins to rub circles into Jan’s shoulder through the plaid fabric of her shirt, and if Jan thinks hard enough, tries to picture it, she’s able to imagine it against her skin, like the way Jackie had held her hand so delicately earlier in the day. 

Everything within her is telling her  _ not to overthink it _ , and Jan thinks that she would if it didn’t seem like an impossible feat. It’s hard not to hyperfixate on every miniscule movement, each minute gesture of Jackie’s that makes Jan covet after her. Jackie’s fingertips begin drumming against the same spot and Jan looks up to see Jackie already looking down at her. Jan feels vulnerable beneath Jackie’s gaze, wrapped up in Jackie’s blanket that smells like honeysuckle and the coconut of her shampoo; the moment is poignant and Jan doesn’t break their gaze until Jackie does. 

Jackie’s arm that’s still secured around Jan’s shoulder tightens further. It’s comforting, as well as familiar, and Jan allows herself to fall back into Jackie’s embrace. Jackie’s wearing a sweater that Jan’s never seen before - it’s a pastel blue, soft against her cheek - and Jan knows that if she isn’t careful then come the end of the movie playing on the screen she’ll be falling asleep against it. She tells Jackie as much and Jackie chuckles, tells her that  _ it’s ok _ . 

With the hand not wrapped around Jan’s shoulder, Jackie is making an attempt to open the chocolate bar. Her coordination is questionable and Jan chuckles, shakes her head. Jackie pouts melodramatically and Jan’s able to see the curl of her lips in the darkening room. Jan offers out her hand, nods towards the chocolate bar and waits for Jackie to hand it over. Jackie appears determined not to do so at first but then Jan arches an eyebrow, and the wrapper is in her hand. 

“Think you need two hands”. Jan giggles. 

“My bad-”. Jackie laughs along with her. 

“-My other one is occupied with a Janet”. 

Jan passes the now open chocolate bar back Jackie’s way. She watches her take the first bite, and then feels the vibration of Jackie’s chest as she hums in approval. Jan hooks an arm over Jackie’s waist, tries to work out what movie Jackie has chosen to watch. She’s unable to do so, but doubts that it matters because Jackie is offering Jan a bite of the chocolate bar with a grin spread wide across her face. Jan accepts, because saying no to Jackie in that moment doesn’t cross her mind. 

Jackie finishes up the chocolate, and when she does, she places her now free hand atop of Jan’s. She squeezes, and then laces their fingers together, and Jan is reminded of how seamless the fit is. Jackie then lifts them, places a kiss to Jan’s knuckles before lowering them to her lap once more. Even when her lips have pulled away Jan’s still able to feel them, and she sinks her head back down onto Jackie’s chest so that Jackie, ever attentive, doesn’t pick up on the flames igniting across her cheeks. 

The sun is on its way to setting and Jan is at ease. 

They watch the movie in what becomes a relaxed silence. Jackie giggles periodically at lines that Jan doesn’t catch, and whenever she does so the room lights up a little more. Sometime before the last comercial break they switch positions; Jan traipses to the kitchen to refill her glass of water and when she returns she settles back down with Jackie’s legs stretched out across her lap, the blanket thrown back over the both of them. 

Jackie presses her outer thighs against Jan’s stomach, her chest against Jan’s side. Jan lets her burrow closer and closer because it’s warm, and it’s nice, and it feels like whatever thorniness had grown between them has wilted away. The petals continue to fall and Jackie smiles at her, her eyes blown wide and glassy. She has her arm looped around Jan’s shoulders once more, a hand curling up past her neck and into her hair. Her fingers twirl it, wrap the strands in rings. 

“You’re so comfortable”. Jackie sighs. 

Jan narrows her eyes jokingly. 

“We are  _ not _ about to talk about the lockdown weight I’ve gained, Jacqueline”. She snorts. 

Jan means it lightheartedly, but Jackie’s eyes deepen. She tugs lightly on the strand of Jan’s hair that’s still woven around her finger and maintains an eye contact that’s piercing, a little startling. Jan’s lips part and Jackie smiles, the corners of her lips curling. Faint dimples appear on her cheeks and Jan almost, very nearly reaches out to touch them. 

“I like it”. Jackie tells her. 

It comes out whispered, yet in such a matter of fact way that Jan doesn’t know how to respond, or even if she should. Jackie is staring right through her and Jan feels exposed, like Jackie is really seeing her. Jackie’s fingers tug on the same strand of Jan’s hair again and Jan’s jaw hangs just as loose as it had the first time. Jackie’s breath is hot against her cheek and the honesty that pours from her, the intense earnestness with which she speaks makes Jan’s body go pliant. 

She thinks about how her hips are wider, her thighs a little fuller, and how her chest is a little bigger too. She also thinks about how Jackie is confessing that she _ likes it _ and it fills Jan with a heat that grows from the inside out. Jan giggles, and then Jackie drops her hand from her hair. She places it instead upon Jan’s shoulder, and with the hand that’s resting limply between them she pushes away the blanket. Jan doesn’t realise until Jackie does it but she’s glad for the cool air that meets her skin. 

it makes her feel less like she’s going to melt away against Jackie’s touch. Jackie’s legs are still sprawled across her lap and Jan rests her hands delicately upon her shins. On her right foot, she wears a gold anklet, and Jan trails her finger across the chain of it. It matches Jackie’s dainty hoop earrings, and the barely noticeable septum piercing that Jan sometimes forgets she has until Jackie is as close to her as she is. 

“This is pretty”. Jan murmurs. 

Jackie makes a noise that’s high in her throat. It’s not a whimper or a groan or even a whine, but it’s a sound of pleasure that Jan makes her mission to hear over and over again. Jan begins crawling her fingers higher until they press into the muscles of Jackie’s calves and it draws the same sound from her again. Jan makes a note of it, ingrains the way that the sounds become more drawn out as she works her way higher. 

Creeping upwards, Jan realises that Jackie’s thighs are as soft as she thought they would be. She ghosts her touch across them before Jackie’s persistent gaze tells her to be braver. Jan accepts the silent challenge and as Jackie spreads her legs a little further, she glides her fingers beyond the hem of Jackie’s sweater. Goosebumps form in their wake and then Jan’s hand becomes bracketed as Jackie presses her thighs back together. 

They’re strong,  _ hot _ .

The heat that radiates off of them is enough to have Jan blushing again, and as the sun outside sets fully beyond the horizon, she becomes glad that neither have bothered switching on the lamp in the corner of the room. Jackie’s vice grip loosens as Jan giggles, and then her head is dropping to Jan’s chest and it’s as if they haven’t been tiptoeing around each other for over a month. It feels normal, like something that Jan wants to be doing tomorrow, next week, next year. 

Jackie not being a permanent fixture within her life doesn’t make sense, and Jan is filled with nothing but adoration as Jackie repositions herself. She moves her legs off of Jan’s lap, wraps her arms around her waist and tugs Jan down until they’re both laying down on the couch. They face each other, legs entangling, and Jan is so close that she’s able to see the way that Jackie’s eyes flicker, glint under the blue backlight of the tv. 

An arm folds across Jan’s waist, and Jackie presses a palm to the small of her back. Jan’s shirt has ridden up and Jackie slips her hand beneath it so that they’re skin on skin, warmth against warmth. One of Jackie’s legs are slotted between both of her own and Jan would shy away from it if it was anybody apart from Jackie. Jan’s only clothed in her panties from the waist down and if she wasn’t soaking through them already then the press of Jackie’s thigh up against her makes sure of it. 

Jan rocks her hips once, and Jackie’s eyes darken. She licks across her lips, and Jackie shuffles closer, winds her other hand back into Jan’s hair. It’s a place that Jackie often gravitates to, but as they settle nose to nose, eyes locked on one another, the want that had been quickly amounting inside of Jan dissipates. Jackie smiles, soft against Jan’s cheek, and Jan feels at home. She’s in Jackie’s arms in the apartment that they share and together they’re building  _ something _ . 

It takes half an hour before sleep begins to drag her under but when it does, she places a kiss to Jackie’s jaw first. 

“Good night, Jacks”. 


	7. day thirty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?”. Jan whispers. 
> 
> Jackie can’t bring herself to break their gaze. It feels electric, like static, and Jan’s thumb doesn’t cease its movements. It’s like the ticking hand of a clock against her knuckles, and Jackie finds comfort in the repetitive motions. Jan keeps looking at her with a gentle curiosity behind her eyes, and it removes any hope that Jackie had had of filtering her words. They come out quiet but they’re undeniably there, and honest, and Jan takes in every one of them. 
> 
> “You’re really beautiful”. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll keep this note short, because this ch is LONG (i'm talking 8.6k long) but i hope you like it!!
> 
> thank you for all of the love on the last part, let us know what you think of this one !!<3

Jackie wakes up before the sun rises. 

And everything feels calm. 

The small silver alarm clock on her bedside table tells her that it’s a little past half four and the sun isn’t due to rise until after five. Her curtains are still open - though she doesn’t know why she hadn’t closed them the night before - and the room is free to light up in greys and then navy blues before eventually lilacs and oranges. Jackie watches the transition from the comfort of her bed and runs her fingers through her tangled hair, breathes in the same familiar honeysuckle of her sheets. 

She detangles the knots that have formed overnight, combs through her waves that have been tousled. There are birds chirping melodically outside and Jackie already knows that the day is going to be warm, scorching. The sun is hung low in the sky and she’s already sweating, kicking away her thick blankets. She stares across her room to the door that’s still slightly ajar but pays it little mind; she’s comfortable and happy and allows her eyes to slip closed once more. 

It’s the first time in the last handful of days that she’s spent the entirety of the night in her own bed. She’s found herself spending more time with Jan, curled up on the couch, and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms as the white noise of the tv whirs in the background. If they’re lucky they’ll wake up halfway through the night and haul themselves to their respective beds before the couch burdens them with aching muscles, but Jackie doesn’t find herself complaining either way. 

Jan is comfortable, and warm, and Jackie thinks about how they’d both been drained before ten at night the previous day, having attempted a run through their local park in the late afternoon. She recalls it fondly and with a giggle, remembers in vivid detail how Jan had looked with her skin glistening with sweat, tendrils of hair escaping it’s ponytail and sticking to her face. She’d worn a simple combination of gym shorts and a t-shirt but Jackie hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from the soft muscles of her thighs, or how her chest heaved beneath the fabric of her shirt. 

They’d barely been able to keep their eyes open after cooking pasta for dinner and Jackie thinks that it explains why she’d neglected to close her curtains as well as her door. She lets herself laugh openly, and buries her face into one of her pillows. Herself and Jan are still dancing around one another and they’re still not talking about it. Jan kisses at Jackie’s cheeks too often for Jackie to convince herself that their relationship is simply platonic anymore, and holds her in embraces that are too intimate for just friends. 

Just  _ roommates _ . 

Jackie’s mind is still fogged with sleep but as the room gets brighter and the clock ticks over to quarter past five, she decides that she can afford to allow herself to drift back into a slumber. Her eyes are already heavy and she rolls over, turns her face away from her window. She’s met with the sight of her bedroom door and the amber glow of the hallway instead, and as she stretches out her legs, slips only her toes back beneath a blanket, she thinks of Jan. 

And how it would feel to fall back to sleep pressed against her in her bed. 

***** 

The next time that Jackie wakes up, it’s a little after nine. 

By that time, Jan is already bustling around the apartment, and Jackie listens intently as she slowly pulls herself from the exhaustion that she’d been cocooned in. First she hears the creak of Jan’s mattress, and then the pipes of the shower as they chug to life in the ceiling above them. Jan showers for fifteen minutes but Jackie remains sprawled across her bed, only reaches for her phone when the thought of Jan dripping in her apple shampoo becomes too much to handle. 

She squints against the screen, and when the flow of the water comes to a halt, she’s able to hear Jan humming along to the tune of  _ I’ll be there for you _ . It’s quiet at first and then gets louder as Jan leaves the bathroom, retreats to her bedroom. The door closes softly behind her and Jackie swipes groggily through to her messages. There’s nothing new apart from a link to a tweet that Brooke has sent, and Jackie reminds herself to go back to it when she’s not still half asleep and barely clutching onto reality. 

Her thoughts swirl effortlessly back around to Jan as they often do. The last time she’d spoken on the phone to Brooke she’d asked her whether they’d kissed yet, whether they’d slept together. Jackie had toyed with the obvious answer of no to both but it didn’t highlight all of the times that they almost have. It feels rude to ignore it, to blank out the moments where Jan’s lips have skimmed her Jaw, and where Jackie’s hands have been pressed against Jan’s back, or her hips. 

It’s never accumulated in anything apart from Jackie touching herself to the thought of it. It happens at the end of the night or at the break of dawn, beneath her duvet cover and in the seclusion of her room. It feels like something that she shouldn’t be doing but when Jan’s moans echo her own from down the hallway, through the wall between them, she’s unable to find it within herself to be ashamed. It’s no secret that Jackie wants Jan, and if Jackie’s reading the signals correctly, which she’s become certain that she is, then Jan wants her right back. 

The sound of Jan’s hair dryer picks up, and Jackie sets her phone back down onto her nightstand. Her glasses are sat on her dresser across the room, and she’s not ready to face the day quite yet despite it being a Saturday, bright and sunny and vibrant. Jackie turns her body back around so that she’s face to face with her window, rays of light beaming in lines across her skin and bed sheets. 

She leans into it, stretches her limbs with a groan. Her back arches off of the mattress and with the release of her muscles, Jackie decides that it’s as good of a time as any to pry herself from her bed. She sits on the edge of it for longer than she needs to, straightens her shoulders and presses her toes to the hardwood floor. The rays of light follow each of her movements and as she stands, pads over to her closet, her hair is illuminated in strands of bronze. 

It falls down her back, albeit still tangled, and she riffles through her clothes to find something suitable for the day with the feeling of it brushing against her skin. She settles on a pair of shorts that she prays won’t make her any warmer, and a shirt that she’d kept from her college with its mascot on the back. Jackie takes them along with clean underwear with her to the bathroom, crosses the hallway in only the panties and thin cotton bra she’d fallen asleep in; Jan isn’t there to see her but Jackie doubts she’d have any qualms if she was. 

A part of her still hopes Jan will appear from nowhere but when she doesn’t, Jackie closes the bathroom door behind herself. She takes a shower that doesn’t last more than ten minutes - the coldest setting isn’t quite cold enough - and when she gets out, she dries herself off quickly. The bathroom window has been propped open by Jan earlier in the morning, and Jackie stands in the faint breeze that it provides. 

Goosebumps form on her skin, and Jackie rubs her palms across them. Her skin is already starting to prickle with sweat again and the succulent on the windowsill is looking as wilted as she feels. She pulls on her panties before picking the small porcelain pot up, carrying it over towards the sink with care. She prunes the leaves that stand no chance and leaves it to soak in a shallow pool of water. Jackie’s owned too many plants for long enough to know that it’ll perk up within a couple of hours, and the knowledge makes her smile as she finishes clothing herself. 

She forgoes a bra, not willing to suffer through any more layers of fabric than are necessary. Her shorts are loose and she ties her shirt into a knot at her waist, leaves a sliver of skin exposed to the blaring sun. If the decision leaves her with any questionable tan lines then that’s just how it’s going to have to be, she decides, because the weather is warm and summer is in full swing and Jackie is  _ happy _ . 

Exiting the bathroom, Jackie heads straight for the kitchen. 

Jan has already beat her to it, as evident from her empty plate that’s littered with toast crumbs in the sink, and the faint smell of burning that still lingers in the air. Her clumsiness is as endearing to Jackie as most things about her are, and she lets a smile grace her face as she manoeuvres around the kitchen. There’s a note on the fridge, scrawled in bold capitals, and it tells Jackie that Jan has left an iced coffee in the fridge for her. 

True to her word, Jackie finds the coffee. It’s been stored in a tall glass and Jackie adds a handful of ice cubes to it from the freezer. The first sip is as refreshing as the second, and then the last, and Jackie finds that she’s drained it by the time that the thought of fixing herself her own breakfast so much as crosses her mind. She contemplates cereal, and then eggs, but neither sound appealing when she’s seconds away from throwing herself into the freezer with what’s left of their ice cubes. 

In the living room, the curtains are wide open, and she walks to peer out of the windows as she ponders. The street below is busier than she’s seen it in weeks. There are couples walking their dogs and the family that Jackie recognises from owning the restaurant across the street are sat on the steps in front of their building. People pass by, cycling on their bikes, and Jackie wonders how they’re mustering the energy for the activity when even the thought of rooftop yoga is making her want to crawl back into bed. 

Jackie settles on two cereal bars. 

They’re not part of her usual breakfast of choice, and she’d never reached for them outside of mornings where she was running late for work. It’s why they’re shoved towards the back of one of the highest cupboards, and she has to stretch up onto her toes in order to grab them. She deliberates between chocolate and peanut butter but decides on one of each; her stomach is calling for them and she’s already eaten her way through half of one of them before she makes her way to the couch. 

Sat next to the windows, Jackie’s body temperature begins to cool. The breeze floats across her skin, and as she lays back on the couch. She kicks her legs across the arm rest while still chewing her way through her first cereal bar and hears the quiet murmurs of Jan’s voice. It comes from Jan’s room that’s down the hallway, and at first she’s talking but then she’s  _ singing _ and Jackie is entranced. 

She’s heard Jan sing on many occasions, because Jan does it often. She sings to herself as she undertakes menial tasks within the apartment, be it cooking or cleaning or rehoming Jackie’s houseplants. Jackie also hears her whilst she’s showering, sweet and ethereal, but only hears the full extent of Jan’s voice when she’s teaching her online vocal lessons. Her falsetto reverberates around the walls of the apartment, sometimes for hours on end, and each time Jackie mutes the volume of the tv so that she’s able to listen in. 

Jackie had told Jan about it the first time that she’d heard her. Jan had responded with nothing but a blush but had thanked Jackie with a soft hand on her shoulder. It’s been weeks since then but Jackie keeps listening as Jan continues to take classes in her room well into the afternoon. She’s still working as the evening approaches and when the clock in their living room reads six, Jackie knows that she’s got thirty minutes - give or take - before Jan bounds in to join her. 

Midway through the afternoon, Jackie had eaten her lunch. 

It had consisted of a sandwich with a side of hummus and carrot sticks, but as the air gets cooler and the sun not so harsh, Jackie rises from the couch. She pulls on a pair of sneakers with the intention of making the short walk to the independent ice cream parlour down the street. It’s only opened back up within the last week or so and she’s been meaning to convince Jan to go with her. Jackie decides then that there’s no harm in taking the ice cream to Jan instead and leaves their apartment with only her phone and wallet in hand. 

The walk there and back is calm and detoxifying. The air is crisp like she’s never known it to be in New york, and the chill that washes across her as she enters the parlour is worth the five minute walk. The owner - Brianna - is a friend of Bob’s and she greets Jackie with a familiar wave. Jackie orders two caramel sundaes and Brianna drizzles extra syrup on top, douses them with more sprinkles than she does for her other customers. She shoots Jackie a knowing wink but says little more, and rings up Jackie’s order on her pink cash register. 

“Is your apartment far, sweetie? You don’t want those melting into ice cream soup”. Brianna laughs. 

Jackie chuckles along with her, shakes her head no. She opens her wallet, slides a twenty across the counter between them. Brianna takes it and works on counting up Jackie’s change. The rattle of the coins are loud in Jackie’s ears but it makes her feel like a sense of normality is returning. The change is placed cautiously back into the palm of Jackie’s hand and she zips it back into her wallet. She tucks said wallet carefully under her arm and picks up one plastic sundae cup in each hand. 

“I live down the street-”. Jackie explains. 

“-Jan’s my roommate. You know Jan, right?”. 

Brianna nods her head in confirmation. 

“Bob told me y’all were living together-”. She smiles. 

“-How’s that working out?”. 

And Jackie doesn’t know how to answer her. To say that things have gone off without a hitch would be a lie but to say that they’re bad would be one too. It’s why she purses her lips, shrugs her shoulders, before letting herself smile. Brianna lets out a soft  _ oh _ and it makes Jackie giggle as she takes a step back from the counter, allows the next person in the short line to step forward. Brianna is still chuckling but Jackie shakes her head jokingly, attempts a wave whilst maintaining her grip on both sundaes. 

“Have a good night!”. Jackie calls. 

Brianna echoes Jackie’s words, and within five minutes Jackie is standing in the elevator of her apartment building, climbing four stories to her floor. The journey up is short but within that time Jackie notices the ice creams melting further, and she taps her foot impatiently against the black linoleum. The elevator dings long after she expects it to and she steps out before the doors have fully opened; there are two apartments on the floor and Jackie and Jan’s is on the left. 

She pushes down on the handle of their front door with her elbow, steps inside and closes it with the heel of her shoe. She’s met with nothing but silence within the apartment and takes it as a sign that Jan has finished work for the day as she steps into the kitchen, sets both sundaes down onto the countertop. Jackie’s quick to wash her hands, and dries them off on a paper towel before listening closer for any signs of Jan. 

When none come, Jackie calls out for her. 

“Jan! Come here!”. 

Her voice travels out of the kitchen and down the corridor, into Jan’s bedroom. Jackie listens first to the creaking of the floorboards that signify Jan’s footsteps and then to the hinge of Jan’s bedroom door. It squeaks whenever she opens it, every time she closes it, and Jackie tries not to smile as the shuffling of Jan’s feet gets closer. Jackie notices her waves of blonde hair before she sees anything else but it’s still not enough to prepare her for the sight of Jan when she steps into the room, strides eagerly into the kitchen. 

She’s grinning, widely, her lips painted a warm shade of terracotta. Jackie stares at them as Jan steps closer, gives Jackie ample time to begin noticing each factor of her appearance. Her hair has been curled, spritzed with a vanilla scented hairspray that Jackie recognises from her collection in the bathroom. She has more makeup skillfully applied to her face than Jackie’s ever seen her wearing - with the exception of within pictures - and is doused in body spray that Jackie’s able to smell from two feet away.

There are hints of the tropics as well as sandalwood, and Jackie breathes it in as if her life depends on it. She thinks that it maybe will when Jan takes another step forward, and Jackie is rendered breathless. Jackie gawks at her with awe behind her eyes and there’s a telling smirk upon Jan’s face. She’s stood there in a pair of lilac workout leggings and she’s either taken her shirt off or hadn’t been wearing one in the first place. Her bra is lacy and tight, clings to her skin in a way that Jackie can’t peel her eyes away from. 

It’s cream, patterned in florals, and Jackie imagines how it would feel to touch it, how the raised cotton would feel beneath her fingertips. Jan’s arching her eyebrows in Jackie’s direction and the motion wipes Jackie’s mind clean. Jackie nods dumbly to the two sundae cups that are still sitting on the countertop, melting away, and clears her throat. When she talks, it comes out pitchy, and a low giggle bubbles from Jan’s lips. 

“I got you ice cream?”. Jackie stutters. 

Jan notices the sundaes for the first time. 

“ _ Oh _ !-”. 

Her face lights up in an innocent smile, and Jackie marvels at how it contrasts her previous smirk. It’s bright, matches the highlight dusted across the high points of her cheekbones, and Jackie mirrors it as Jan moves around her, reaches for the sundae. She places a delicate hand on the small of Jackie’s back on her way there and Jackie doesn’t care about the sweat that’s undoubtedly soaked through the fabric of her shirt. She only cares about Jan’s touch, Jan’s excitement, Jan’s  _ everything _ . 

“-Oh my god, caramel!”. She grins. 

“Is that ok?”. Jackie checks.

“Super ok”. 

Jan softens noticeably. Both her face and her words become more tender than they had been, and Jackie doesn’t miss the way that she flushes beneath her makeup. She lifts the sundae, pulls two spoons from their cutlery drawer. Jan hands one of them over to Jackie and Jackie takes it gladly, smiles her thanks. They both lean back against the countertop, and as Jackie eats her first spoonful she toes off her sneakers, kicks them to the corner of the room. She tells herself she’ll pick them up after she’s done and Jan smiles into her sundae. 

“Thanks, Jacks”. She says. 

Jackie merely shrugs her shoulders, continues eating her way through her cup of ice cream. It’s melted past the point of what she would normally prefer, but it’s to be expected in the warmth that’s still present. It’s just past six thirty and the sun isn’t setting quite yet but it is creeping lower, making the room appear richer. Jan looks angelic in the luxuriance of the amber and Jackie gives up trying to pry her eyes away from her. 

Jan doesn’t seem to mind. She eats her way through the ice cream slowly, and Jackie savours each spoonful just the same. It’s sugary on her tongue but Jan is smiling sweeter. Jackie allows their legs to brush at the ankles and for the next passing minutes they exist in a comfortable silence. Jan doesn’t look up until she places her now empty sundae cup down onto the countertop next to her but when she does, Jackie feels the earth shift beneath her. 

By the look upon her face, Jan feels it too. 

Her eyes are wide, her pupils blown, and Jackie’s noticing flecks of blue and brown and a golden umber. Jan blinks slowly, lashes batting against her under eyes, and then her lips curl into a lopsided grin. She reaches out, takes one of Jackie’s hands in both of her own. Jackie doesn’t see it coming but she squeezes softly in return, lets her heartbeat fall in time with Jan’s thumb that’s stroking across her knuckles. Jan’s smile relaxes to a simper and Jackie swallows hard. 

“What?”. Jan whispers. 

Jackie can’t bring herself to break their gaze. It feels electric, like static, and Jan’s thumb doesn’t cease its movements. It’s like the ticking hand of a clock against her knuckles, and Jackie finds comfort in the repetitive motions. Jan keeps looking at her with a gentle curiosity behind her eyes, and it removes any hope that Jackie had had of filtering her words. They come out quiet but they’re undeniably there, and honest, and Jan takes in every one of them. 

“You’re really beautiful”. 

It’s not new information, but vocalising it is. She’s told Jan that she’s pretty before, has even called her gorgeous after one too many glasses of wine. Jan has called her stunning, too, but Jackie’s never called her  _ beautiful _ and it appears to catch Jan off guard. Her thumb stops stroking across Jackie’s knuckles, hovers ominously over them. Jan’s grip tightens briefly but then she’s letting go, dropping her hands into loose fists at her sides. Jackie watches the tendons in Jan’s neck strain against her skin, observes the bob of her throat as she gulps. 

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you saying that”. Jan mutters. 

Jackie isn’t certain that she hears her correctly. The words are quiet, hushed, and Jackie has to let them sit in the air before they sink into her mind. When they do, her jaw becomes slack, and Jan’s looking at her with a mix of uncertainty that she’s unable to pin point and a sense of hope that Jackie recognises from herself. Jackie thinks it over -  _ I don’t think your girlfriend would like you saying that _ \- and then lets out a disbelieving laugh. 

“My  _ what _ ?”. 

*****

Jan feels things come to a head all at once. 

The air crackles between them, and Jan is filled with a simultaneous sense of hope and dread. She doesn’t understand, because the culmination is sudden yet expected, and Jackie is looking at her with the same glint behind her eyes that Jan’s seen appear each time that they’ve been on the verge of kissing. Jackie’s pressing the tips of her fingers to her own lips, arching her eyebrows humorously. She does so in order to conceal her smile; it’s one that Jan adores but it’s making her frown. 

Jan is perplexed, but Jackie is looking at her like it’s easy. She shakes her head, reaches down to take Jan’s hand back into her own. Their fingers lace together and Jan realises that she’s missed them for the short while that they’ve been separated, pulled apart by her own force. Jackie licks across her lips, takes a tentative step closer to Jan. 

“Brooke?”. Jackie questions. 

A prominent smirk replaces her smile. She looks so sure of herself that Jan doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know how to respond. Jackie’s bumping her knee up against hers and is leaning her elbow onto the countertop. She takes Jan’s hand with her, so that they’re both balanced on the pedestal of wood, and Jan feels quietly adored. A nod of her head is all it takes for Jackie to laugh and Jan follows the pull of the muscles in her neck as she tilts her head backwards. 

“Brooke isn’t my girlfriend, Jan”. 

The words don’t register. 

Jan blinks up at her, eyes wide and palms trembling. Jackie attempts to calm her by squeezing at her hand though the motion isn’t half as comforting as Jan thought or hoped it would be. She bites at the insides of her cheeks, tries to centre herself and process the words that still hang heavy in the air. Jackie is showing her the same dedicated patience that she always has and Jan doesn’t think she deserves it. At the same time she also wants more of it, and needs all that Jackie will hand to her. 

“ _ What _ ?”. 

“Brooke-”. Jackie starts. 

“-Is not my girlfriend”. 

This time, they do register. Jan tells herself that it has nothing to do with the way that Jackie’s front is pressed up against her own, or the way that she loops a confident arm around Jan’s waist in order to steady her. She knows that it’s a lie and she’s not going to convince herself anytime soon but for as long as Jackie remains as close to her it doesn’t matter. Jackie disconnects the vice grip of their hands and Jan doesn’t have time to be disappointed about it; both of Jackie’s hands move to rest on her shoulders and Jan feels the heat building back up between them. 

“She’s not your girlfriend”. Jan muses. 

“Nope-”. Jackie grins. 

“-What about the cute blonde? The french one? Is she  _ your _ girlfriend?”. 

Her tone is teasing, and Jan has to blink away her surprise because their miscommunication is laughable. She’s quick to shake her head in a defiant no, and drops her forehead to Jackie’s shoulder. Jan lets out a groan that’s encompassed in a chuckle and secures her own arms around Jackie’s waist. The small of her back is damp with sweat and Jan presses the pads of her fingers to it, feels Jackie shudder in her grasp. 

“We’re stupid-”. Jan tells her. 

“-We’re actual idiots, Jacqueline”. She snorts. 

Jackie doesn’t disagree with her, but she does give Jan’s shoulders a light shove. Jan lifts her head from the crook of Jackie’s neck and when she peers back into Jackie’s eyes, there’s an openness there that wasn’t present before. Jackie winds her fingers into the tendrils of Jan’s hair that fall down her back, and pulls Jan that little bit closer. Jan’s gaze flickers to Jackie’s lips and stays there until they stretch into a smile. 

“Nicky’s my best friend”. Jan corrects. 

Nodding her head, Jackie hums in understanding. Her hands are still woven into Jan’s hair, whereas Jan’s own are migrating to Jackie’s hips. She captures them in a bruising hold, her fingertips pressing into Jackie’s skin through the fabric of her cotton shorts. Jackie’s getting closer still and Jan doesn’t think it would be possible to want Jackie more than she does in that moment. Her chest is tight with need and Jackie is slotting her knee between Jan’s thighs as if she’s able to sense it. 

“Good to know”. Jackie breathes. 

And then her lips are on Jan’s. 

It’s more frantic than Jan had prepared herself for, and feels different to all of the ways she had imagined it happening. The buildup has resulted in a burning energy that’s consuming Jan whole, igniting the entirety of her body. She moves her lips against Jackie’s, and as she leans her head into the kiss, Jackie makes a soft, barely there noise of affirmation against her. It happens again when Jan slips her hands gingerly under the waistband of the back of Jackie’s shorts, and then once more as Jan pulls away to draw in a breath. 

Jackie whines in protest, chases blindly after her. Her eyes are still closed but they flutter open slowly, and Jan feels herself melting into them all over again. A part of Jan saddens for all of the time that they’ve lost whilst dancing around one another, avoiding talking just to bask in the suspense for a while longer. The other parts of her are radiating in sheer joy as Jackie mewls, her grip tightening on Jan’s shoulders. 

When their lips touch again, Jan is ready for what greets her. Jackie tastes of vanilla ice cream and caramel syrup, a sweetness that Jan doesn’t want to ever quit. Her lips glide with the gloss of her tinted lip balm and Jan sinks into the pillows of them. Jackie’s hands weave into the roots of her hair, and when they do, Jan wraps her arms beneath Jackie’s thighs. She lifts her effortlessly, places Jackie onto an empty section of the countertop. 

As she does so, Jackie attempts to balance herself, and one of her hands sends both of their empty sundae cups clattering into the sink. Jackie giggles into the kiss and Jan can’t help but join her. Jan places a hand on each of Jackie’s thighs, spreads them so that she’s able to stand between them. Jackie hooks her ankles at the base of Jan’s back and whimpers deliciously, seductively. It’s infinitely more intense than Jan could have ever predicted their first shared kiss to be but when Jackie keeps pulling her closer, exhaling ragged moans into her mouth, she can’t bring herself to pull away. 

And she wants more. 

“I’ve wanted to do this-”. Jan mumbles. 

“-For  _ so _ long”. 

“Me too-”. Jackie whines. 

“-Fuck, me too”. 

Her fingers dig into the lace of Jan’s bra, trail beneath the straps of it. Jan’s own hands keep travelling up and up, palming across Jackie’s thighs. They’re soft and bare in her shorts and as Jan creeps higher, she squeezes experimentally. The action pries a squeak from Jackie, and Jan repeats the touches just to better understand the reactions that she’s able to evoke. Jackie shuffles forward on the surface so that her hips press up against Jan’s, and it’s at that moment that Jackie utters her first  _ please _ . 

The room is growing hotter despite the sun descending further behind the clouds, and every nerve ending in Jan’s body feels like it’s been sparked to life. Jackie is rocking into her, tightening her legs around her waist, and Jan’s able to feel the warmth of her through her shorts, pressing against Jan’s stomach. She’s still letting out minute whimpers, jagged  _ pleases _ , and Jan’s close to giving in and asking Jackie if she can take her to bed when Jackie beats her to it. 

“Is it too soon to ask you to fuck me?”. Jackie pants. 

Her breath is hot against Jan’s cheek, and Jan’s quick to shake her head. Jackie’s body trembles against her own and there’s a flash of worry behind her eyes. Jan knows her well enough to understand that she needs the verbal reassurance that this is real, this is happening, and she gives it to Jackie as she kisses along her jaw, tugs her earlobe gently between her teeth. 

“I think we’ve put it off for long enough, don’t you?”. Jan grins. 

Their lips join once more, and with her hands firmly planted beneath Jackie’s thighs, Jan lifts her off of the counter. Jackie squeals as they move across the room, and tightens her legs around Jan’s torso. She giggles into the kiss as Jan navigates her way down the corridor, and breaks away as Jan deliberates whether she should make her way towards her room or Jackie’s room. Jackie’s is closer but Jan’s door is already open and it seems like the most logical option. 

“Mine?”. Jan checks.

“Anywhere”. Jackie whines. 

Jan gets it, because she’d almost ignored their bedrooms all together. The couch hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea, or even the kitchen counter. She’s confident that Jackie wouldn’t have minded either way but Jan decides that if they’re finally doing this then they’re going to do it right, and comfortably. The springs of Jan’s mattress may be on their way out but her sheets are soft and the room smells like a cinnamon candle that once belonged to Jackie. She closes the door behind them with a soft thud and Jackie drops her feet to the floor. 

She observes her surroundings, but her hands don’t leave Jan’s body. Her fingers are still tugging at any accessible part of Jan’s bra, and are slipping the straps down her arms. Jan keens into her touch and pushes the fabric of Jackie’s shirt upwards. Lips ghost across the line of Jan’s jaw, and then the slope of her neck, and Jan’s vision becomes hazy as Jackie sucks lightly on the one spot that makes her knees weak. 

Her mouth gapes, and the groan that Jan lets out makes Jackie pull her lips away. There’s not enough difference in their heights for one to have to crane their neck towards the other, and Jackie stares directly into Jan’s eyes. Jackie’s pupils are wide, dilated, and Jan knows without looking at herself in the mirror that hers are blown to match. She lifts a hand, tugs on the elastic that’s holding Jackie’s hair in a makeshift bun. Her hair falls in cascades down her back only for Jan to wind it around her fingers in order to tilt Jackie’s head to the side. 

“Is this ok?”. Jan checks. 

Because it feels more than ok to her, but if Jackie wants a way out then Jan wants to give it to her. Jackie’s quick to nod her head and connect their lips once more and Jan pushes any worries to the back of her mind. They stay there, don’t dare to escape as Jackie unclasps her bra for her, tosses it to the floor and presses their bodies flush together. Being as close to Jackie, having only the fabric of Jackie’s shirt separating them is making Jan salivate. Jackie seems to be on her wavelength because they’ve only made it a single step closer to the bed when Jackie is shrugging off her own t-shirt with her college mascot on the back of it. 

It joins Jan’s bra on the floor. They step over both items of clothing, and Jan lowers Jackie to the bed with a delicacy that she hadn’t expected. Jackie pulls her with her, hooks her ankles behind Jan’s thighs. Jan leans forwards so that her hair forms a curtain around them and suddenly her world is narrowed to just Jackie, and Jackie’s smile, and the way that Jackie’s panting into the small space between them. Her eyes trail down to Jackie’s bare chest for the first time and  _ of course _ , Jan thinks.

Jackie’s nipple piercings are gold like the rest of her jewellery and it’s hot, mind numbingly so. 

“Want you so bad-”. Jackie whines.

“-Need you”. She reiterates. 

“Jackie”. 

Jan exhales her name as if it’s the only word that she’s able to remember. It’s not far from the truth when all that’s running through her mind is how good Jackie’s chest feels pressed up against her own, hard nipples digging into her skin. Jackie’s canting her hips up into Jan’s and Jan’s bearing her own down at a pace which is torturously slow. Jackie’s hands have settled on her ass and are squeezing through the tight fabric of her leggings. Jan needs them off, needs them gone, and when she tells Jackie as much she receives a drawn out whine in response. 

“Let me get these off”. 

“ _ Please _ ”. 

Jan makes quick work of her own pants, and then grips ahold of the waistband of Jackie’s shorts. They’re made out of a loose, soft cotton, and they glide easily down her legs when Jan taps at Jackie’s hips, encourages her to lift them. She looks down at Jackie once they join the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor - she’s clad in only lace panties, Jan is losing her mind - and crashes their lips together with a guttural moan. Jackie swallows it down down down, and Jan slots their legs together. 

“Can I-”. Jackie huffs. 

“-Can I tell you something I’ve been thinking about?”. 

Jackie whispers it into her ear, and it makes Jan soak through her panties even more than she already has. She grinds against Jackie’s thigh, nods her head. She wants to hear all that Jackie has to tell her, with her eyes hooded and hips chasing hers frantically. Jackie presses her knee upwards, and Jan begins trailing her fingertips across Jackie’s collarbones, over the small swell of her chest. Her nipples are hard against the palms of her hands and Jan tugs gently on the dainty gold bars pierced through them. 

“Tell me-”. Jan coaxes. 

“-What’ve you been thinking about, baby?”. 

Jackie mewls at the name, and Jan lowers her head to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. She first kisses at the skin behind her ear, and it makes Jackie shiver, has her digging her nails into Jan’s back. It’s an enticing dash of pain and Jan leans into it, begins peppering kisses across Jackie’s chest, over her sternum as Jackie catches what little breath she’s able to. Jan takes one of her nipples into her mouth, laves her tongue against the piercing. Jackie’s head falls backwards into the pillows and it’s the loudest that she’s moaned thus far. 

It reminds Jan of hearing the same sound before, only then through the bricks of the wall separating their bedrooms. Hearing it up close and being the one causing it is better than Jan could have imagined and she squeezes both of her thighs around one of Jackie’s. She’s on a search for any relief that she’s able to get and Jackie gives it to her by meeting her thrust for thrust. 

“The first time we got high together-”. 

Jackie pauses to draw in a breath. 

“-You made a joke about your strap on”. 

_ That’s what she’s been thinking about _ , Jan muses. It wouldn’t be true for her to say that she hasn’t been thinking about it too, but getting verbal confirmation from Jackie makes the situation all the more real. The light outside is pouring through the gaps in her curtains, dripping onto Jackie’s skin. She looks golden, like she’s the sun herself, and Jan lets her bright gaze scorch right through her. 

“I could show you?”. Jan smirks. 

Jackie is sprawled out amongst her lilac bed sheets that still smell like lavender and Jan has never seen anything as magnetic. 

“You could-”. Jackie nods. 

“-And then you could  _ show _ me”. 

Jackie’s hands move from Jan’s back to her waist, and Jan is filled with a desire that’s so raw, so poignant that she has to stop, blink, take in Jackie’s words. Jan knows what she’s asking but Jackie repeats herself anyway, brings a hand between their bodies in order to cup Jan’s pussy through her panties. She presses, hard, and every muscle in Jan’s body clenches. Her eyes close, and she rests her forehead against Jackie’s, kisses her hot and wet and needy. 

“Show me”. Jackie repeats. 

And Jan isn’t going to deny her of it. 

She lifts herself begrudgingly off of Jackie, crosses the room to her closet. She shuffles out of her panties on the way there and when she turns back briefly to Jackie, she notices that Jackie has done the same. There’s a smirk plastered across her face, and she drops her panties delicately to the floor as she maintains eye contact with Jan, spreads her legs wantingly. Jan’s hand falters on the handle of her closet and Jackie climbs further up the bed.

Eventually, Jan has to tear her eyes away. It’s only for a brief moment, to dig her harness and dildo from the box that she keeps them in, but when she turns back to Jackie her mouth runs dry. Jackie is looking at her intently, cheeks flushed and hair floating like silk around her. Her hands are coasting across her body, pinching her nipples and travelling to her thighs. When they get there, she licks across her lips and Jan hyper fixates on the sight of the wetness pooling between them. 

Jan’s walking back towards the bed, her mind void of anything that isn’t Jackie. She pauses at the foot of it, works the panty-style harness up her legs. It’s a soft rose pink, made out of a lacy fabric, and the aesthetic of it along with her glittering lilac dildo may be sweet but Jackie is staring at her sinfully. Jan wraps her hand around her dick, keeps admiring Jackie. She’s rubbing slow circles into her clit and Jan dares her to go further by shooting her a wink, followed by a smile. 

“Does that feel good?”. Jan soothes. 

She kneels on the bed, begins crawling towards Jackie. She hovers over her, Jackie now curling two fingers up inside of herself. Jackie nods, mewls, and Jan covers the hand working at her pussy with one of her own. Mewls turn into desperate whimpers, and Jackie whispers a strangled  _ yes _ . Jan grins with pride, and proceeds to wrap her fingers loosely around Jackie’s wrist. She pulls Jackie’s fingers out of herself and takes them into her mouth instead, glides her tongue against them and hums at the taste that lingers on her lips. 

It’s sweet, it’s  _ Jackie _ . 

Jackie’s eyes are hooded, and she looks like she’s seconds away from begging Jan to do something. 

Anything. 

“You taste so fucking good”. Jan groans. 

“I need-”.

“I know”.

“ _ Please _ ”. 

Jan finds herself agreeing easily. There’s no need for teasing or preamble when Jan thinks that they’ve been engaging in an elongated act of foreplay for the best part of a month, and from the hunger in Jackie’s eyes, Jan would be willing to bet that she feels the same. She pulls Jan down onto her, digs her nails into her back, and Jan grinds her hips so that Jackie’s able to feel her dick against her thigh. They kiss messily, wantingly, and Jan wants to give her everything. 

“Do you need-”.

“Nooo-”. Jackie whines

“- Just fuck me”. 

She doesn’t give Jan an opportunity to finish her question, but when Jackie cuts her off it doesn’t feel like it was ever relevant. Jan nods her head, drags her teeth down the column of Jackie’s neck. She trails kisses all of the way across her collarbones, and back to Jackie’s nipples that coax the richest moans from her. Jan basks in them, memorises the path down to between Jackie’s thighs. They’re glistening with sweat and wetness from her pussy and Jan licks a stripe through it. 

“Pretty”. Jan smiles. 

It’s not clear what she’s referring to, but it could stand true for everything about Jackie, from the tip of her nose to the soles of her feet. Her pubic hair is kept trimmed, and it’s a shade or two darker than the hair on her head. Jan strokes her thumb across it and Jackie looks down at her with her chest heaving, eyes falling shut. She rubs careful circles around Jackie’s clit and the first touch makes her whimper. Jan watches her entrance clench, flutter around nothing, and then she stops.

“Beautiful”. She repeats. 

Jackie’s body writhes. 

“Let me turn over”. 

Jackie is asking Jan to fuck her from behind. Jackie is  _ pleading _ with Jan to fuck her from behind. Jan gulps and is pushing herself up onto her knees so that Jackie’s able to swivel beneath her. The sight is too much to handle, and her knees almost buckle. She takes Jackie’s ass in both of her hands, spreads it as Jackie presses her face to the pillows. Her hands fist into the crumpled bed sheets and the sun that’s almost fully set douses them in a lilac that matches. 

Because the sight may be too much, and it may be too hot, but Jan wants it to keep happening. 

Jackie giggles dreamily and Jan cuts her off by slipping two fingers inside of her. She’s tight, wet and warm around Jan’s knuckles. There are groans spilling from her lips like the wetness that’s trickling down Jan’s wrist, onto the bed sheets, and they grow louder as Jan curls her fingers. She presses deeper, against the rougher spot inside of Jackie that makes her spine dip. Her back is arched in a perfect curve and Jan plants her free hand firmly on the small of it. 

“There-”. Jackie pants. 

“-Fuck, Jan, right there”. 

Jan grunts aloud. 

“I can’t wait to feel you on my dick”. 

She whispers it against the shell of Jackie’s ear, tugs on the delicate gold hoops in her lobes with her teeth. Jackie grips tighter at the bed sheets with white knuckles and Jan pulls her fingers from inside her. She wipes them off on Jackie’s thigh, and Jackie keens after the contact. Her head is nodding defiantly and Jan needs her, has to fuck her and make her come like she deserves. Jan’s own clit is throbbing beneath the fabric of her harness and with each buck of her hips, each precautionary thrust that she makes against the swell of Jackie’s ass, a spike of pleasure jabs through her. 

“Come on-”. Jackie teases. 

“-I’m ready, please, just-”. 

Jan lines her dick up with Jackie’s entrance. 

It succeeds in quieting Jackie for all of ten seconds, but as Jan begins to push in, Jackie clenching hard around her, the room erupts in moans once more. Most of them come from Jackie but Jan lets out smaller whimpers of her own. She stares down at her dick as she thrusts into Jackie - slowly at first, gradually - and how she clinches around it as she pulls back out. Jackie pushes herself up so that she’s fucking her hips back onto Jan, and it’s then that Jan stops restraining herself. 

Jackie mutters a husky  _ yes _ , and Jan slams her hips. The slap of skin becomes intoxicating, and the sound works in perfect harmony with Jackie’s whines. She makes the same, high pitched mewl every time that Jan thrusts in, pulls back only to drive back in harder. Jan has one hand on Jackie’s hip, gripping it bruisingly, and the other winds into her hair. She uses it for leverage, forms Jackie’s back into a bow; there’s an arrow shot through Jan’s heart and Jackie has put it there. 

“Fuck, you’re so big-”. Jackie groans. 

It makes Jan’s rhythm falter. 

“-You feel so  _ good _ ”. She emphasises. 

Jan slows her thrusts. They become more intentional, targeted, so that her dick brushes up against Jackie’s g-spot with every tilt of her hips. Jackie nods her head - Jan doesn’t know if it’s meant for her or if it’s just subconscious - but Jan presses her chest to Jackie’s back regardless. Her nipples are hard, and they press into Jackie’s shoulder blades, cause her to shudder. Jackie lifts a limp hand, reaches around haphazardly to grasp at Jan’s thigh. Her short nails drag tantalisingly across her skin and Jan almost loses focus. 

Almost. 

“Can you get on your back?”. Jan kisses at her neck. 

“ _ Yes _ ”. Jackie hisses. 

Her reply is instant and certain. They reposition with an ease that feels indicative of their dynamic. It’s reminiscent of the flow of their coexistence, and how they move together. Jackie pulls Jan down on top of her, and Jan stops rushing. She lets herself enjoy the simple act of kissing Jackie, and how it feels to be holding her. Jackie hooks a leg around Jan’s waist and Jan smiles against her lip. Jan’s still able to feel Jackie’s pussy, soaking against her thigh, and how Jackie bucks her hips upwards. 

She hadn’t thought it could get more intimate. Jan’s quickly proven wrong when Jackie reaches between them, guides her dick back inside of her. Jan gives her a look that says  _ I’ve got you _ and their eyes remain locked as Jan thrusts shallowly, at first. Jackie lets out whimpers that are quieter than they have been and lifts her right leg to join her left one, wrapped around Jan’s body. Jan hums, kisses Jackie’s neck languidly. 

“Jan-”. Jackie gasps. 

“ _ -Fuck _ , yes, don’t stop”.

Jan has no intention of doing so. Jackie’s eyes are wide open and are making Jan feel vulnerable in a way that she hadn’t anticipated. Jan places her hands on the undersides of Jackie’s thighs and pushes her legs back towards her chest. It allows her to fuck into Jackie at an angle that makes her yelp, dig her nails in harder to Jan’s back. Jan knows without seeing them that there are abstract scratches littered across her skin and they make her feel like a work of art that Jackie has created. 

She thrusts her hips, looks between her dick sliding in and out of Jackie’s pussy and the blissed out grin on her face. It contorts slowly into a concentrated frown as Jan works harder, palms across Jackie’s nipples. She uses one hand to do so and keeps herself propped up with the other, the muscles of her biceps tensing. Jackie kisses her through it and pulls away with a drawn out moan. 

“Touch me-”. Jackie pleads. 

She takes Jan’s hand and moves it between her legs.

“-Touch my clit”. 

Nodding, Jan does as Jackie asks. It comes naturally to her - like Jackie’s unrelenting grip, her high pitched whines - and she rubs at Jackie’s clit in quick circles. Jackie’s head falls back into the pillows and Jan resumes her earlier position of kissing at her neck, sucking gently. Her moans are becoming louder, closer together, and Jan knows that she’s close. 

“Knew you’d fuck me so good-”. Jackie’s words are garbled. 

“-You’re ‘gonna make me come,  _ jesus _ , ‘gonna come”. 

Jackie goes silent. 

And then she groans, unbridled. 

She comes with Jan’s lips on her neck and fingers against her clit, and engulfs Jan in a full body embrace. Jan feels surrounded by all things Jackie and watches the expression on her face. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of her lips and then she’s giggling, burying her head in the crook of Jan’s neck. She laughs freely, peppers kisses across her pulse point. It makes Jan’s heart surge in her chest and she decides then that it’s a feeling she doesn’t want to stop experiencing. 

“Easy, baby”. Jan grins.

“If I don’t hold on, you’ll disappear-”. Jackie’s whines intermix with her giggles. 

“-And I never want you to disappear”. 

Jan doesn’t mean to laugh, but she fears that if she doesn’t then the adoration within her will grow to be too much. Jackie’s legs slip from her back, and Jan lowers herself so that they’re pressed against one another once more. Their noses brush and lips connect tenderly, and Jan doesn’t say it but for a moment, she thinks that she could love Jackie. Jan is still inside of her, hips rocking slowly when Jackie nips at her earlobe and giggles breathily.

“Give me a minute-”. Jackie pants. 

“-And then I want you to sit on my face”. 


	8. day thirty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jan learns that Jackie’s favourite trees are honeylocusts, for their domed stature and ochre colour. She also learns that the pond that they’re walking closer to is filled with white water lilies, but Jan forgets the scientific name that she uses. Jackie tells her too about her failed roller skating attempt that had taken place at the same park; she and her friend Chelsea hadn’t shared an ounce of coordination between them and weaving their ways in between New York City tourists had been near impossible. 
> 
> The story makes Jan laugh, and she’s still giggling as Jackie pulls her to a quiet corner of the grass, one that’s shaded by the branches of a tree. They settle comfortably, with Jan laying down, resting her head in Jackie’s lap. Jackie stretches her legs out in front of her and toes off her sneakers, lets her sock clad feet brush against the strands of grass and wildflowers that surround them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi pals! it's so wild that this is ch8 already!! the feedback on the last ch was incredible so we just want to say thank you again!!!
> 
> ps, this is my personal favourite ch so far, so,, i hope you like it!!
> 
> let us know your thoughts <3

There’s a leg hooked across Jackie’s body.

And it belongs to Jan. 

Her head is resting on Jackie’s chest, and the curling strands of her hair tickle at Jackie’s nose. Jackie breathes in the freshness of her shampoo as well as the musky scent of sex, and nuzzles the crown of Jan’s head with her eyes still closed. She can tell without opening them that the room is already drowned out in a bright light, but also knows that it has to be early from the silence that engulfs them. The only sounds outside of the room come from far off chirping birds and it means that Jackie’s able to focus on Jan’s quiet breathing, her delicate snores. 

The warmth of her breath is soft against Jackie’s sternum. It’s slow, calm, and when Jackie finally peels her eyes open it’s to the sight of Jan already looking at her. Jackie has to steady the thrum of her heart before she’s able to mirror Jan’s smile, and busies herself with stroking her fingers through Jan’s hair. Jan’s own fingertips are drumming gently against Jackie’s upper arm and Jackie doesn’t think she’s ever been as in tune, as in sync with another person. 

Because waking up in Jan’s bed on a menial sunday feels normal, feels good. Jan lifts her head to place a peck to Jackie’s collarbone and Jackie leans into it as she hums groggily. She stretches her legs beneath the thin lilac sheet that’s covering them and Jan moves with her, tightens her leg over her hips. The air is humid and their skin sticks with sweat but Jackie is content, and breaking away from Jan doesn’t align with any of her wants or needs.

Jan blinks then, and Jackie notices the remnants of yesterday's mascara smudging beneath her eyes. She lifts a hand to swipe away the darkness and doesn’t miss the way that Jan’s cheek fits so effortlessly into her palm. Jan follows Jackie’s wrist with a kiss, and there’s something in the way that it settles the nerves in Jackie’s chest. Jackie opts to link their hands - she squeezes tightly, strokes her thumb across Jan’s knuckles - and rests them on her stomach. 

In the early morning light, Jan looks angelic. Her grown out blonde hair falls in trickles of honey and coffee and caramel around her face, and Jackie finds it endearing how it’s curled up overnight. She winds the fingers of her free hand briefly into the strands of it, but then lets them fall to Jan’s back. There, they crawl up and down her spine, and Jan arches into her touches. She smiles up at her, her lips flushed pink in the glow of dawn, and Jackie leans in to kiss her. 

Their embrace is soft, and Jan hums. It vibrates against Jackie’s lips and she can’t help but smile, and eventually grin as Jan shifts again. She doesn’t pull away from the kiss but she does plants her knees firmly on either side of Jackie’s hips, leans down and cloaks the both of them in her lilac sheet. Her chest presses against Jackie’s, and Jackie’s reminded not for the first time that she and Jan have _actually_ slept together. 

When Jan does pull away, it’s with a blissed out smile. She bumps her nose up against Jackie’s and Jackie encircles her arms around her waist. Jan’s eyelashes are fluttering against her cheek and she almost forgets about the springs of Jan’s mattress that are digging uncomfortably into her back. She bends her knees, rests her feet flat on the bed. Jan uses them to prop herself up and leans back against them. Jackie settles her hands on her waist and regards Jan with a sense of wonderment. 

“Morning”. Jan whispers. 

The apples of her cheeks pucker into another smile, and Jackie reaches up to ghost her thumbs across them. Her touch glides down Jan’s neck, and then to her shoulders where her hands come to rest. Jan’s skin is warm beneath her fingertips, and Jackie’s eyes dart between the freckles on her face and the ones on her upper arms. Her thighs are soft and Jackie luxuriates in how they press against her own, how they tighten as Jackie simpers up at her. 

“That happened”. Jackie says dreamily. 

Jan leans back down so that she’s inches from Jackie’s face. She nods into the space between them, winds her hands into Jackie’s hair. She places one, then two pecks to Jackie’s lips, and Jackie chases after her. Jan takes Jackie’s bottom lip gently between her teeth, and tugs until Jackie’s unable to stop herself from giggling. The world outside is sparking to life and Jackie feels herself doing the same. 

“It did-”. Jan sings. 

“-’wanna do it again?”.

Jackie doesn’t think she’s ever said yes quite as quickly.

*****

The room continues to get brighter. 

There are noises permeating the walls of the apartment from the outside world that Jackie had forgotten existed. Cars screech slowly along the street below, and the voices of passers by fill Jackie’s ears along with Jan’s heavy breathing. She’s sprawled out on her back, panting up at the ceiling, and Jackie has to fight away the pride that she feels for causing it. Jan’s hair is even more untamed than it had been when they’d first awoken and Jackie knows that attempting to run her fingers through it will be futile. 

But she does it anyway, because prying her hands away from Jan is more difficult than she imagined it would be. Jan covers her own mouth with the back of her hand and Jackie turns onto her side, props her head up with her elbow resting on the mattress. There are beads of sweat trickling back into Jan’s hairline and Jackie reaches out to lay a palm flat on her chest. It heaves as she draws in deep breaths, and rattles with the beat of her heart. 

“You know-”. Jackie starts. 

“-Your mattress is _really_ uncomfortable”. She smirks. 

Jan shoves at her shoulder halfheartedly. She rolls over to face Jackie as she giggles, and Jackie loops a protective arm around her waist. Jan hooks a leg across Jackie’s thighs and Jackie lets herself be pulled closer, into the warmth of Jan’s body. It’s pushing a hundred degrees outside and Jackie doubts that inside is much cooler, but the thought of detangling herself from Jan’s embrace makes her feel icy. 

“Ms Cox-”. Jan huffs through her grin. 

“-You _cannot_ just fuck me like that then talk shit about my mattress”. 

“Oh, but I did”. Jackie drawls. 

Jan groans, and tucks her head into the crook of Jackie’s neck. She kisses at the skin there, and trails a hand up and down the curve and dip of Jackie’s waist. Goosebumps form despite Jackie feeling like the sun is blazing through her and Jan chuckles breathily. The air that she exhales breezes across Jackie’s collarbones, but then Jan is pulling away, twisting in order to lay on her back once more. Her arm remains folded across Jackie’s body but Jackie already misses her, misses her warmth. 

“But yeah-”. Jan shrugs. 

“-This mattress is bad. I’ve been meaning to get a new one”. 

Now that her breathing has evened out, Jan’s voice is steadier, more confident. Her chest and cheeks are still flushed but Jackie looks past it, gazes instead to the affection within her expression. Jan tucks a strand of Jackie’s hair behind her ear for her and Jackie leans into it. It feels tender, delicate, and Jan’s skin is soft. The same gentleness resides in everything about Jan; like how she keeps the cinnamon candle that Jackie had given her on her nightstand and a painting from her friend Crystal on her dresser. 

_Sleep in my bed tonight_ , Jackie almost tells her, but she’s unable to find the words. Jan is already pulling her back in for another kiss and Jackie melts easily into it. The clock on Jan’s bedside table tells her that it’s nearing eleven but it’s a Sunday, and Jackie’s comfortable, and neither of them have anywhere to be. Jan doesn’t teach her online classes until Monday afternoon and Jackie has been out of her job as a television PA since lockdown began. It’s not something that she likes to think about for too long and it becomes apparent that she doesn’t have to when Jan taps at her elbow. 

“Jacks?”. 

“Hm?”. 

Jan breaks out in a smile.

“Let’s go for a walk today”. 

Jan says it so optimistically, so full of excitement and enthusiasm that Jackie finds herself nodding her head instantly. She grins across the sea of lilac bed sheets to Jan, allows her hand to sail across them and into Jan’s grasp. Jan has her fingernails painted a pale shade of blue, and next to Jackie’s own burgundy ones they look as if they belong. She wears a thin, silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand and Jackie twists it around, slips it off and on again before letting go. 

“Will you let me rub sunscreen on you?”. Jackie grins. 

Jan’s jaw drops. 

“Jackie!”. 

Snorting out a laugh, Jackie sits up. She props her back against Jan’s headboard - it’s as uncomfortable as her mattress is - and Jan follows her with ease. They’re pressed arm to arm, and Jan nudges her tactically in the ribs. It makes Jackie groan jokingly, but then Jan’s dropping her head to Jackie’s shoulder. Jackie’s face is still overtaken by pride when Jan lifts it moments later and they share a look that’s telling. Of what, Jackie doesn’t know, but it’s a nagging feeling that she’s becoming increasingly unable to ignore.

“We should shower first”. Jan suggests. 

Though Jackie doesn’t disagree, the gurgling of her stomach does. She knows that Jan hears it because of how she tilts her head back in an open belt of laughter, prods at Jackie’s side with her pointer finger. When Jackie blushes, Jan relents. A distance is put between them as Jan shuffles towards the edge of the bed, and Jackie is left to gawk at the twisting muscles of Jan’s back, how she’s somehow all soft edges until she isn’t. Her arms flex as she lifts herself up and Jackie is shameless in how she looks at her. 

Reluctantly, Jackie sighs. 

“You go shower-”. She offers. 

“-And i’ll make us breakfast?”. 

She knows that if they have any hope of traipsing out of the apartment before the sun sets again, then Jan is going to have to agree. Showering together wouldn’t save either time or water when all Jackie wants is to revel in Jan, savor each glimpse and touch of her that she’s able to get. Jan is pouting at her from where she’s perched on the edge of the bed, knees now folded beneath herself. Jackie places a hand upon one of her thighs and Jan lets it sit there. 

“You’re really distracting, did you know that?”. Jan cocks an eyebrow. 

“Maybe-”. Jackie smirks. 

“-But I’ll make us pancakes if you go shower”. She offers.

And Jackie’s never seen Jan move as quickly. 

*****

From the shower, Jan’s able to hear the radio playing in the kitchen. 

She’s unable to make out the songs that play one after the other, but if she knows anything about Jackie then it’s her love for instrumental music. Jan listens intently as she combs her conditioner through her hair with her fingers and tilts her head back into the stream of water. It succeeds in cooling her off, lowering the temperature of her body, but doesn’t wash away her thoughts that are all consuming, taking up every corner of her being. 

Jan decides that she’s not going to complain about it. She thinks that she’s already spent too long trying to fight the inevitable - the inevitable being Jackie - and doesn’t want to do so anymore. She doesn’t have the energy for it, because attempting to ward off something that could be so _good,_ something that is already proving to be just that doesn’t sit right with her. 

She’s still able to feel Jackie’s touches across her body even as she steps out of the shower, clothes herself in a light sundress. It’s powder blue in colour and it would be a lie to say that she doesn’t choose it with Jackie in mind once more. Jackie had once told her that blue is her colour, that it suits her, and Jan has subconsciously begun to channel it in miniscule ways; she paints her fingernails blue instead of purple, swaps her usual plain silver earrings for ones with turquoise accents. 

If Jackie has noticed, then she hasn’t commented yet. Jan doesn’t think that it’s necessary, because Jackie shows her recognition in ways that don’t require words. She’ll take Jan’s hands in the middle of watching a movie, and will rub her fingers across Jan’s glossy nails. They’ll be pressed against one another on the couch and Jackie will study Jan’s face, tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and hum as she thumbs across Jan’s earrings.

Jackie’s love languages are becoming increasingly apparent, and Jan is trying her best to learn each of them, understand them to the best of her abilities. She shelves the thought as she begins towel drying her hair briefly, knowing that it'll finish air drying naturally within the hour due to the heat regardless. Jan detangles it with a wide tooth comb that she keeps next to the sink and is then padding out to the kitchen, her feet bare. 

As she rounds the corner, she’s greeted with the smell of pancakes accompanied by Jackie’s wide smile. She’s dishing them out onto plates, next to two glasses of juice that she’s already poured. Jan walks over to her until, sits on one of the stools that Jackie’s pulled up to the kitchen countertop. She takes a sip of the orange juice and it chills all the way to her stomach. Jackie is smiling softly at her as she slides one of the plates along with a fork in Jan’s direction, and Jan thinks that she looks comfortable. 

Jackie’s wearing only a pair of black cotton panties, and a red open robe that she has shrugged around her shoulders. It falls to her mid thigh, and leaves the valley of skin between her breasts and stomach exposed. She’s within touching distance of Jan but Jan keeps one hand firmly wrapped around her glass of juice and the other gripping at her fork. Jackie balances on the seat next to her and then nods towards Jan’s loaded fork. 

“I think I have some maple syrup, if you’d like?”. She offers. 

Jan contemplates it. Jackie has already served the pancakes with a side of strawberries, a dusting of sugar, and Jan thinks that the sweetness with which Jackie is looking at her is enough to compensate for both. She shakes her head no and Jackie smiles her understanding, begins chewing her way through her first pancake. Their gazes divert until Jan brushes her leg up against Jackie’s, takes advantage of how close they are to one another. 

“These are so good”. Jan hums. 

“It’s my moms recipe-”. Jackie tells her. 

“-Well, kind of. She always added cinnamon but I couldn’t find any”. She laughs. 

Jan doesn’t tell her that she has a jar of it in the back of one of the cupboards because it doesn’t seem important. She’ll tell her when the moment has passed them by, and when Jackie isn’t smiling fondly about memories of her family that she rarely talks about. Jan’s able to count on one hand the amount of times that Jackie has brought up her mom or her grandparents. There have been more mentions of her father but they’re still infrequent, and Jan knows better than to push sensitive topics. 

“They’re great anyway”. Jan reassures. 

Jackie ducks her head, but mumbles a grateful _thank you_. She wraps her ankle around Jan’s, and Jan feels the press of her gold anklet against her skin. They work their ways through their respective plates, with Jackie offering Jan her last strawberry. Jan eats it off of her fork and as she does so it tastes new, like summer. The light from outside is still illuminating the room in golds and whites and Jan watches the green of their house plants reflect in Jackie’s eyes. 

“I’ll shower in a second-”. Jackie announces. 

“-And then we can head out?”. 

She’s already pushing herself off of the stool, but Jan takes a hold of her hand before she’s able to take both of their plates to the sink. She squeezes once, and then again, and the fabric of Jackie’s robe shifts as she squeezes back. Jan lifts her other hand, places it on the back of Jackie’s neck. She pulls her in closer - Jackie smells like citrus and pancakes - and places a closed mouthed kiss to her lips. Jackie hums into it and Jan has to pull away before the morning trickles away from them. 

“Think of me”. Jan grins. 

And then Jackie’s turning to leave the room. 

“Oh, I will”. 

*****

When Jackie makes her way back to the living area, Jan is busy trying not to sweat into a puddle on their couch. 

She has both windows wide open, her legs thrown over one armrest of the couch and her hair draped over the other. One of her arms is dangling to the floor, and she uses the other in order to wipe at her forehead, her cheeks that are overheating. Jackie shoots her a confused frown from the doorway and Jan lets out a frustrated groan, huffs up towards the ceiling. She makes room for Jackie to sit on the couch as she walks closer, and envies how Jackie doesn’t look like she’s sharing the same discomfort. 

“It’s so fucking _hot_ ”. Jan complains. 

Jackie laughs brazenly. She plants a hand on Jan’s knee, squeezes it lightly. The contact heats Jan up further and she whines, high in her throat. Jackie arches an eyebrow, tilts her head quizzically. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail at the crown of her head, and it falls to the juncture between her shoulder blades. The faint breeze gusting through the windows makes her baby hairs float airily around her face, and Jan can only wish that the same calm finds its way into her own body. 

“It’s all of that hair on your head, baby”. Jackie soothes. 

And the name baby shouldn’t make Jan shiver pleasantly like it does. Because Jackie has called her baby many times before - before, during and after sleeping together - but it hits her in a different way. It comes out casually, overwhelmingly so, and Jan closes her eyes because she can’t bring herself to look at Jackie when Jackie’s looking back at her like _that_. Her eyes are soft and her skin is glowing and Jan is still getting warmer. 

“I’m going to shave it-”. She dramatises. 

“-Clean off. Buzz cut”. 

Jan opens her eyes to Jackie now smirking and shaking her head. 

“Sit up-”. Jackie beams. 

“-Let me braid it for you. It’ll keep it out of your way, you’ll cool off a little”. She offers. 

Jan does as Jackie asks without thinking about it. Her thighs are sweaty against the material of the couch as she swivels, but Jackie moves to kneel behind her like it’s nothing. Jan has dried into uneven waves, and when Jackie asks her if she has a hair tie Jan hands her the thin black elastic that she always wears on her wrist. She’s learnt that it’s better to be prepared; Jan has lost count of the amount of times that the thickness of her hair has snapped a hair tie and she’d be lost without her backup. 

Jackie’s hands section her hair with ease, and Jan succumbs to the feeling of Jackie’s nails scratching lightly against her scalp, her fingers brushing against her shoulders and spine as she works her way further down the length of Jan’s hair. It takes her mere minutes, and Jan shouldn't be as surprised at her efficiency as she is. She secures the single french braid with Jan’s elastic and places a kiss that Jan almost doesn’t feel to her shoulder when she’s done. 

“There-”. Jackie smiles.

“-All better”. 

*****

They walk leisurely, happily. 

With her hair off of her face, the breeze is able to hit Jan’s skin, and she stops feeling as if she’s one degree away from her skin melting off of her bones. There are more people outside than Jan’s seen since the state originally went into lockdown but Jackie stays close, offers Jan the reassurance when she needs it. Jackie, for her part, looks as calm as she had when she’d woken up hours prior, and Jan is just happy that she gets to share the day with her. 

Trees line the sidewalks, grand and statuesque and serene. Jan has always enjoyed how the leaves of the London planetrees are especially green at this time of year, and how each Norway maple is still tinted the slightest bit yellow from the spring months that have been and gone. There’s also a cherry blossom shedding its petals like confetti as they enter the park down the street, and as they fall to the ground, Jan finds her hand intertwined with Jackie’s. 

It happens naturally, and she looks to meet Jackie’s gaze. It’s already blaring through her in the same way that the sun bounces off of the pond in the distance and Jan smiles, wide. Jackie swings their arms back and forth between them, and Jan follows the motion of it. They walk beneath arches sculpted from branches, maintain a type of small talk that Jan has rarely ever found comfortable with anybody that isn’t Jackie. 

As they walk, the conversation continues. 

Jan learns that Jackie’s favourite trees are honeylocusts, for their domed stature and ochre colour. She also learns that the pond that they’re walking closer to is filled with white water lilies, but Jan forgets the scientific name that she uses. Jackie tells her too about her failed roller skating attempt that had taken place at the same park; she and her friend Chelsea hadn’t shared an ounce of coordination between them and weaving their ways in between New York City tourists had been near impossible. 

The story makes Jan laugh, and she’s still giggling as Jackie pulls her to a quiet corner of the grass, one that’s shaded by the branches of a tree. They settle comfortably, with Jan laying down, resting her head in Jackie’s lap. Jackie stretches her legs out in front of her and toes off her sneakers, lets her sock clad feet brush against the strands of grass and wildflowers that surround them. 

As she relaxes her muscles, Jan can’t help but groan. They’ve been walking for less than half an hour, but Jan’s knees still feel like she’s ran a marathon. Her hips are stiff and her arms feel like they’re being held down by sandbags. Jackie looks down at her - she’s perplexed, if a little concerned - and brushes a thumb across Jan’s brow bone. Jan smiles up towards her through the rays of sunlight and picks at a flourishing daisy. 

“I’m really achy”. Jan pouts. 

Jackie only has to shoot her a look for Jan to blush furiously. 

There are words that they don’t say, but Jan doesn’t need to hear them. She knows exactly why her muscles are burning and so does Jackie with her persistent smirk. It has something to do with how she’d fucked Jackie into her questionably comfortable mattress not even a whole day ago, and how Jackie had filled her with her fingers before breakfast. They aren’t things that Jan would change but still she lifts her hands, covers her face with a low chuckle. 

“I’m out of practice”. Jan snorts. 

Jackie doesn’t agree from the prominent frown that appears, stretches across her forehead. She shrugs her shoulders, feigns nonchalance, but Jan’s able to see the cogs turning in her head. They shunt, come to a halt, and then Jackie is laughing with her, shaking her head in a firm no. Her hand comes to rest on Jan’s shoulder and Jan lets it sit there, allows it to ground her. 

“I’m not sure I’d agree with that”. Jackie smirks. 

“No?”.

Jackie shakes her head.

“I mean, I had a _great_ time”. She emphasises. 

Jan lifts her hands back up, covers her face once more. She groans louder, and Jackie’s grip on her shoulder tightens. The grass feels like it’s growing around them and Jan feels it tickling at her ankles, her arms that eventually sprawl back outwards. She mumbles a low _me too_ , just loud enough for Jackie to hear. It results in a cackle and a kiss being placed to her cheek. Jackie leans forward to put it there, and her lips linger as a gust of breeze whirls around them. 

“Y’know-”. Jackie starts. 

“When you first moved in, I didn’t think you even _liked_ girls”. 

She says it in what Jan assumes is disbelief, with an air of awe lacing her voice. Jan looks up at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Jackie nods her head, confirming what she had told Jan, and uses her index finger to close Jan’s mouth with a giggle. Jan only opens it again, because Jackie has caught her off guard with her statement; _I didn’t think you even liked girls_. 

“What?-”. Jan snorts. 

“-Jackie, how the fuck did you think that?”. She laughs. 

Because Jan thinks that she makes it obvious, be it intentional or not. The first books she’d added to what has become hers and Jackie’s shared bookshelf in the living room had been a collection of essays by Audre Lorde, as well as a handful of Sarah Waters novels. She’d added her collection of rainbow mugs to Jackie’s collection, and her one plant pot that matches. Jan thinks that she wears more plaid than needed just to fit _that_ stereotype and Jackie is still telling her that she hadn’t known. 

Jan has to laugh at it. 

“Yeah!-”. Jackie argues. 

“-It’s like, Bob normally gives me a heads up about people she introduces me to but when she didn’t say anything, I just figured you were straight”. She elaborates. 

Jan becomes unable to control her laughter. Her legs flail in the grass, and her arms swat feebly at Jackie’s side. Jackie joins her when she shows no signs of quieting down and leans back onto her elbows. Jan lifts her head from her lap so that she’s able to copy Jackie’s position and they lay back onto pillows made of dandelions. The dust of them catches in Jackie’s hair but neither attempt to remove them as they look up towards the picture reels of clouds. 

“That’s hilarious-”. Jan muses. 

“-When did you realise I wasn’t?”. 

Jackie is courteous enough to pretend to think about it, and doesn’t give a brash answer like Jan had expected. Instead, she smiles, and turns on her side to face Jan. She cups her cheek with the palm of her hand, and Jackie holds the weight of Jan’s thoughts as if they’re feathers, as if they don’t trouble her. Her thumb strokes across the high point of Jan’s cheek, and Jan finds herself not caring about the sweat that’s still beading on her temples, gathering at her hairline. 

“Well-”. Jackie drawls. 

“-I think it was probably somewhere between seeing you own a mug that says _home sweet homo_ and us flirting relentlessly for a month”. 

Jackie _had_ noticed her collection of mugs. It makes Jan laugh again, and she’s slowly losing count of how many giggles, the amount of chuckles that Jackie has drawn from her all before two in the afternoon. Jackie pulls her closer by the hand that’s still cupping her cheek and Jan’s able to smell the spearmint of her gum from how close she is. It’s fresh, captivating, and Jan wants to taste it for herself.

“Touché-”. Jan hums.

Then Jackie closes in on her lips. 

“-Touché”. 

*****

Later that night, they make dinner together. 

Making dinner meaning putting a pizza from their freezer into the oven. Jan argues that it’s too warm to spend longer than five minutes slaving over a stove and Jackie is unable to disagree. The sun may be setting but the apartment is still on the wrong side of what she’d consider a comfortable warmth. She’s fairing better than Jan is in the summer heat but Jackie’s never had any qualms about a quick fix of pepperoni pizza and she’s not about to start now. 

They set the timer on the oven for thirty minutes, and Jan coaxes Jackie over towards the couch with the promise of letting her choose what movie to watch. Jackie doesn’t mind either way but Jan’s excitement at the prospect is endearing, and she slumps onto the couch with Jan’s hand in hers. Jan has swapped out her sheer sundress of an oversized t-shirt that barely reaches her thighs, and Jackie’s opted for a coordinating set of grey shorts and a tank top. 

It means that they’re pressed against each other, bare skin on bare skin, and Jackie knows that she would be able to get lost in the feeling if it wasn’t for Jan’s thoughts blasting louder than the volume of the tv. Her head is resting on Jackie’s shoulder, and as she looks up at her with a faint frown, Jackie feels the lightness that has followed them for the entirety of the day transform into a darkness that she doesn’t recognise. 

Jan loops an arm across Jackie’s waist, her grip vice-like. 

“Hey-”. Jackie whispers. 

“-You good in there?”. 

Her fingers tap gently at Jan’s temple, but she’s only able to force out a strained chuckle. Jackie doesn’t buy it, not for a second, and looks at her in a way that she hopes Jan will be unable to ignore. It’s not harsh, but it is honest, and Jan shrugs her shoulders slowly. She lifts her head from Jackie’s chest, tucks her knees up onto the couch cushion. Her arm stays wrapped around Jackie’s body but all Jackie is able to focus on is how the blue light of the tv screen combined with the orange glow of the setting sun makes Jan appear otherworldly. 

“Jan?”. She tries. 

Jan huffs out a jagged breath, and then she’s blushing, and it’s not what Jackie had expected. 

“I really liked last night, and, you know, this morning”. She admits. 

Jan looks apprehensive, nervous for Jackie’s response, but Jackie thinks that she needn’t be. There’s no question as to whether Jackie feels the same - she does, undeniably - and she squeezes at one of Jan’s hands in the hopes that she’s able to convey as much. Jan’s expression becomes less uncertain and more curious, and Jackie tucks the strands of hair that have escaped her braid throughout the day back behind her ears. 

“I did too-”. Jackie simpers. 

“-A _lot_ ”. 

Jan lets out a breath that looks like it was painful to hold. 

“Ok, yeah, that’s reassuring”. She laughs. 

Jackie hums her agreement, and Jan adjusts her position wordlessly. She rises to straddle Jackie’s thighs, and wraps her arms around Jackie’s neck. Jackie braces her hands on Jan’s hips as she presses their bodies flush together and then settles them on her waist once she’s sure that Jan is comfortable. Jan peppers butterfly kisses across the bridge of Jackie’s nose, across her jaw and down to her neck but Jackie still has unsaid words balancing on the tip of her tongue. 

So she lets them fall. 

“We’re good”. Jackie promises. 

Jan pulls away just to look at her. 

“We’re _so_ so good, Jacks”. Jan agrees. 

They kiss lazily until the timer on the oven chimes like a bell, and when it does, Jackie lets Jan go with a final peck. They eat their ways through the pizza with the tv playing in the background - though they pay more attention to each other than the subpar character arc - and when they’re done, Jackie tugs on Jan’s hand. They leave their plates on the kitchen counter, determined to forget about them until morning, and stumble out of the room with their lips interlocked and hands wandering freely. 

“We’re sleeping in my room tonight-“. Jackie announces.

“-That mattress of yours is not fit for _anything_ ”. 

When Jan doesn’t disagree, Jackie thinks that they’ll be making a habit of it. 


	9. day fifty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’d like to take you on a date”.
> 
> “A date?”.
> 
> “When we can, yeah”. Jackie confirms. 
> 
> Jan tries with a single look to tell Jackie that she’s thought about it too, on more than one occasion. She’s found herself cycling through the cliché movie theatres and overpriced restaurants, coffee shops and beaches along the coast, before contemplating more menial things that only sound appealing when she thinks about doing them with Jackie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! so im very sad that this is coming to an end because I've had so much fun writing it with hol, but here's ch9!! ch10 will wrap everything up, but in the mean time, I hope you like it!!
> 
> as always thank you for all of the love on the last part!
> 
> let us know what you think!<3

Jan thinks that she might be falling in love.

Or, she knows that she’s already in love but is unwilling to admit it to herself yet. 

She’s been waking up each morning for almost three weeks in Jackie’s bed, and has had the pleasure of being shielded from the bright morning sun by Jackie’s arms. They kiss their ways into consciousness and Jan falls back and forth between feeling out of her depth and feeling as if their relationship is the most natural thing she’s ever encountered about ten times a day. If not more. Jackie is there to guide her by a firm hand on the small of her back and Jan lets herself melt into it. 

The days go by quicker from then on than Jan thought they would. They’re a little of the way into summer and the uncertain future is slowly being mapped out. There are no definitive dates for when a new type of normal will commence for them but Jan feels comforted knowing that it will happen, even if it’s not soon. Jackie reassures her of it whenever Jan gets lost in her own thoughts, and is there to pull her back out from the ditch she digs herself into. 

Jackie, for the most part, remains positive. Because Jan has rarely seen her be anything but. She still pries Jan up to the roof of their building to do yoga every other day, because according to her it keeps her mind at peace. Jan doesn’t argue but she doesn’t necessarily agree either. If she only takes part just to stare at Jackie in her workout gear then that’s nobody's business but her own; and maybe Jackie’s when they fuck in the shower afterwards. 

Jan has never had someone make her come as hard as Jackie does while simultaneously treating her as if she’ll shatter. Jackie makes her feel adored and also lights a fire in her gut, douses gallons of gasoline on the flames. It becomes all consuming to the point that Jan turns to ash and she spills all of her feelings out to Nicky during a facetime call midway through the week. 

She settles with her phone on the couch as Jackie’s taking her morning shower, and presses call before thinking it through. It’s risky - calling Nicky before noon if they haven’t planned it in advance - but she answers when Jan needs her most and she’s never been more grateful for it. Nicky, granted, looks as if she’s just pulled herself from the confines of her bed. For her that means slightly ruffled hair that she tames in seconds and Jan laughs openly because she’s always been the more put together of the two. 

Nicky mumbles something about fixing herself a cup of coffee but Jan is already launching into an unprepared panicky spiel. She lays down on the couch, sprawls her legs dramatically. One of her arms ends up folded behind her head in order to prop her neck up and the other holds her phone inches from her face. The angle isn’t flattering but neither are the words leaving her lips and she accepts that it isn’t going to improve as Nicky chuckles through the screen. 

Outside, the sun is still as scorching as it has been for the best part of a month. It’s not unusual for a New York summer, but Jan’s used to being able to vacation at her family's home in New Jersey when the heat becomes too much. This year, she doesn’t have that, and she misses the pool in her parents back yard, the AC that she’d grown up with in her childhood bedroom.

Her apartment that she shares with Jackie in the sweltering quarters of Hell’s Kitchen doesn’t have such luxuries. They have a desk fan in Jackie’s room that they leave whirring throughout the night but it does little to cool them once the sun has begun its daily onslaught. Jan is left to simply stare at her home state from across the river and spends longer than she cares to admit complaining about it to Jackie. Jackie - because she’s good, and _kind_ \- makes Jan homemade mango popsicles and kisses her afterwards just as sweetly. 

Jan tells Nicky about all of it. 

She doesn’t spare details because Nicky asks for all of them, and Jan finds her heart pouring out of her chest and onto her living room floor as she stares at a pixelated form of her best friend. Nicky takes in all of her words, and offers Jan counterpoints and solutions that seem too logical. Jan has a tendency to over complicate everything within her life and Nicky calls her out on it as she holds a steaming mug of coffee to her chest. 

“Seriously Jan, what’s the problem here?-”. She questions. 

“-Because I’m not seeing one”. 

If Jan is honest with herself, then she isn’t seeing one either. She’s making herself hallucinate, conjuring up issues that aren’t there. They didn’t exist to begin with and Jan doubts that they’ll come to fruition. Because despite acknowledging that their connection has been forged by the amount of time that they’ve been forced to spend together, she also knows that it’s real, and that she cares for Jackie in the same way that she hopes Jackie cares for her. 

“I really _really_ care about her”. Jan mutters. 

“I know-”. Nicky’s response is easy. 

“-So why are you making it so hard for yourself?”. 

Jan is unable to answer her. She doesn’t have a reason, or even the beginnings of an explanation no matter how hard she tries to search for one. Nicky’s expression scolds Jan without her having to say anything and Jan groans, rubs a hand across her face. Her head sinks back into the couch, and the fabric against her skin makes her even warmer. Jan repositions her arm back under her head before Nicky’s able to comment and their conversation continues. 

“Look-”. Nicky sighs. 

“-You said you care about her, no?”. 

Nicky quirks one of her eyebrows, and Jan nods without hesitation. There’s no question about whether or not Jackie has taken up each vacancy in the hotel of her heart because she has, effortlessly. She knows that Nicky’s able to tell because Nicky had sworn that it would happen when Jan had told her about their first kiss, and the first time that they’d had sex, as well as the first time they’d fallen asleep together in the same bed; they’d all happened in the same night and Jan recalls the memory with a fond chuckle. 

“I lo-”. 

Jan cuts herself off. 

“ _-Yes_. I care about her”. She huffs. 

Nicky isn’t oblivious, and neither is she stupid. Jan knows that she catches what had almost been said but she’s gracious enough not to make Jan elaborate, even if it is true. Instead she nods slowly, as if digesting each word one bite at a time. Jan spoon feeds her with changes in her expression and Nicky snorts, and then giggles, leans closer to the camera. Her face takes up all of Jan’s phone screen and Jan laughs at the sight. 

“You have chemistry?”. Nicky checks. 

“I think that’s obvious”.

“And the sex?”. 

“ _Incredible_ ”. 

“So?”. 

So - Jan still doesn’t know. She’s running out of excuses, and reasons to keep fighting off her feelings that are still _growing growing growing_. Their chemistry is potent and the sex is the best that Jan’s ever had, but there’s a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that’s telling her that something has to be wrong. Things are too seamless, and Jan doesn’t know how she’s been so lucky as to find her attraction reciprocated. 

“Jan-”. Nicky softens. 

“-Love doesn’t have to be a challenge”. 

It’s then that it hits Jan. 

The realisation isn’t some grand revelation like she had thought it would be. It spreads warmly throughout her bones, doesn’t crash into a crescendo that she’s come to expect. The sensation is pleasant, more refreshing than it is anything else, and Jan enjoys it as it comes to her. Loving Jackie isn’t a challenge - Nicky is right, as she mostly always is - and adoring her feels like second nature to Jan. Nicky senses it before Jan voices it and beams brightly with pride. 

“Jan is in love”. Nicky hums. 

She says it like a statement and it’s one that Jan agrees with. She mumbles a vague _yeah_ to begin with, because the sound of the shower switching off tells her that she’s got minutes before Jackie joins her. Jan knows that it’s not going to be long enough for her to regain the composure that she’s lost but she sits up on the couch, attempts to gather herself regardless. She crosses one leg over the other, balances her elbow on the arm rest. The action steadies the phone in her hand and Jan is slowly coming back down to earth. 

“Jan is indeed-”. Jan inhales. 

“-In love”. 

Jan is in love. 

With Jackie. 

“There she is!”. Nicky cheers. 

She’s grinning triumphantly, and Jan thinks that she has every right to do so. She clasps her hands together, and the sheer joy that radiates from Nicky is enough to have Jan smiling too. It starts small, and then spreads across her face, before it morphs into a content simper as Jackie’s footsteps begin padding down the hallway. They get closer, and Jan is sure to shoot Nicky a stern glance as she enters the room. The speaker of her phone is blasting at full volume and the last thing that Jan wants is Jackie finding out that she _loves_ her from her loudmouth best friend. 

“Not a word”. Jan warns. 

Nicky gives a mock salute, and Jan doesn’t have time to respond. Jackie is sauntering into the room fresh from her shower, a cloud of tropical fragrance from her shower gel following her. Jan breathes it in, takes in the tendrils of Jackie’s hair that have escaped her bun, gotten caught in the flow of the water. They’re curling at the ends, and they float around her shoulders as Jackie navigates the kitchen, fixes herself a glass of water all whilst maintaining eye contact with Jan. 

She’s wearing one of Jan’s plaid shirts, unbuttoned over her sports bra and a pair of shorts. Jan beckons her over with a crook of her fingers and Jackie rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her water. She doesn’t move from where she’s stood, at first, and Jan lets out a giggle. She offers Jackie a hand from across the room and Jackie rounds the countertop, begins walking towards Jan with her glass of water still in hand. 

“Jacks, c’mere”. Jan pouts.

“What’s up?”.

“Come meet Nicky”. 

Jackie’s hand slips into her own, and Jan tugs her down to sit next to her on the couch. Letting the two corners of her life conjoin is impulsive, but Jan doesn’t think it comes a moment too late or a second too soon. Nicky knows of Jackie and Jackie has come to know Nicky through anecdotes that Jan has told her over cups of peppermint tea, whilst they’ve been nestled on the couch or in Jackie’s bed. They’re very different people in practice and in theory but when Nicky grins, waves welcomingly, Jan stops fretting. 

“Damn, mama, you’re gorgeous”. Nicky laughs. 

Next to her, Jackie blushes. 

Then, she giggles, and Jan grips tighter at her hand. This close Jan’s able to see each faint freckle, and how she’s caught the sun more around her hairline and across the bridge of her nose than she has the rest of her face. The same golden glow has found her shoulders, and Jan trails her eyes across them as Jackie toys with a reply. Jan knows her well enough to assume that one isn’t going to come quite yet and it’s why she fills the silence for the both of them, turns back to face the phone still in her hand. 

“I told you!”. Jan boasts. 

She means it as a humble brag, because Jackie is gorgeous, and she is beautiful and she _is_ sexy. Jackie also makes Jan feel like she’s all of those things too and it calms Jan enough to be able to resume the conversation. Jackie fits in as if she’s always been there, and Jan sits back as Jackie begins interjecting when she feels that it’s appropriate. She speaks in mystical french with Nicky that leaves Jan looking on in awe, and even impresses her with the little spanish that she knows. Jackie argues that her vocabulary isn’t as vast as it once was but Nicky waves it off. 

“Jackie-”. Nicky starts. 

“-Jan can barely manage English, you’re winning here”. She laughs. 

“Hey!-”. Jan objects. 

“-I can speak a bit of Italian!”. 

She can’t really - at least not beyond basic greetings - but both Jackie and Nicky already know that. Jackie reminds her with a loving roll of her eyes and Nicky simply cackles but she knows that neither of them mean it maliciously. Jackie’s hand leaves hers, and settles high up on her thigh. She squeezes tenderly, and Jan feels safe, protected between Jackie and Nicky and the words that they continue to share. 

They talk for another half an hour or so. Morning becomes afternoon before their eyes, and by the time that they end the call, Jan and Jackie have plans to go for lunch with Nicky and her girlfriend Lemon as soon as they’re able to do so. Nicky tells her that she misses her greatly and Jan almost, very nearly cries. Jackie is there to comfort her with an arm around her shoulder and she guesses it’s the only reason why she doesn’t hang up with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“I’ll see you soon, alright?”. Nicky promises. 

Jan only nods her head mutely for fear of stumbling on her words. 

“It was great to finally talk to you, Nicky”. Jackie smiles. 

“You too, ma chéri-”. 

“-Now, tell Jan to hang up before she cries on me again”. She jokes. 

It takes some convincing, but Jackie manages to get her to do so. Jan sets her phone down onto the coffee table with a huff, buries her head in her hands. Jackie keeps a protective arm around her shoulders and whispers sweet nothings as Jan groans, lifts her head once more. She hasn’t seen Nicky in person since her last booking that had happened a week before lockdown had begun. It’s the longest that they’ve gone since their days in college and she tells Jackie about it while Jackie guides them to the kitchen. 

“I miss her so much”. She says quietly.

Jackie nods her head in understanding but ultimately stays silent. She’s giving Jan the space that she needs whilst also staying close. Jackie boils their kettle, pours two cups of green tea. Jan doesn’t tell her that she thinks she’s too warm to drink it because Jackie’s intentions are nothing but pure. She’ll let it cool down, drink it when it’s no longer steaming. Jackie looks like she plans on doing the same and they sit facing each other on the two stools that they still have pulled up next to the countertop. 

“You’ll see her soon, remember?”. Jackie whispers. 

“I know-”. The corner of Jan’s mouth twists into a smile. 

“-It just feels like I haven't seen her in maybe like, ten years”. 

At that, Jackie smirks. She holds her mug in one hand and has the other firmly intertwined with Jan’s. Jackie resumes the soothing motion of stroking her thumb across Jan’s knuckles, and Jan lets her breathing fall in time with it. She inhales as Jackie moves one way, exhales as she goes back in the opposite direction. Jackie leans in closer with words that are hushed just for her, and Jan feels the entirety of their apartment shrink around them. 

“Have the last couple of months with me been _that_ bad?”. Jackie teases. 

Only they’ve been anything but bad. 

“They’ve been the best”. Jan admits. 

Her voice wavers noticeably. She knows that Jackie noticed from the affectionate smile that she gives her, but she chooses not to push it and Jan is thankful. Their tea cools as they share delicate words and as Jan reaches the bottom of her mug, Jackie places it into the sink for her. Jan watches the sway of her hips as she walks back towards her, and instead of perching back on her stool, she stands between Jan’s legs. 

She rests her hands on Jan’s knees, and Jan’s own easily gravitate to Jackie’s hips. The fabric of her plaid shirt crumples beneath Jan’s fingers, and she holds tighter, pulls Jackie closer. Their faces are inches away from one anothers and Jan’s able to smell the earthy green tea on her breath, is able to see the shine of the lip balm that she’s applied to her lips. Jan’s willing to bet that it’s the same one that Jan’s used to kissing; vanilla and cocoa and rich. 

Jan is already leaning in closer, ready to taste it, but Jackie pulls her head just out of reach. Whining quietly, Jan pouts. Jackie squeezes higher up on Jan’s thighs, and Jan chases after her lips that feel like they’re getting further and further away. Jackie simply keeps smirking but when it eventually falls, Jan misses it. She’s prepared to ask Jackie for it to come back, but Jackie is already ahead of her, and is parting her lips to make way for delicate words. 

“So-”. She begins.

“-Nicky reminded me that I wanted to ask you something”. 

It doesn’t happen often, but Jackie looks nervous. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, is looking between Jan’s eyes and the floor. Her hands are fidgeting on Jan’s thighs and Jan has to reach down to still them before they burn their ways through her skin. Jackie blushes apologetically but Jan brushes it off with a kiss that she presses to Jackie’s palm, and then another that lands on her wrist. 

“Ask me, then”. Jan coaxes softly. 

Jackie looks confident once more. 

“I’d like to take you on a date”.

“A date?”.

“When we can, yeah”. Jackie confirms. 

Jan tries with a single look to tell Jackie that she’s thought about it too, on more than one occasion. She’s found herself cycling through the cliché movie theatres and overpriced restaurants, coffee shops and beaches along the coast, before contemplating more menial things that only sound appealing when she thinks about doing them with Jackie. 

They include visiting pumpkin patches in the fall, or the local animal shelter that Jan used to volunteer for when she was in college. She also wants to take Jackie to meet her family in Jersey but that’s an idea that’s neither here nor there and if she thinks about it for too long then it makes her head spin. 

“What were you thinking?”. Jan questions. 

At that, Jackie lights up. 

“Well-”. She grins. 

And then she begins talking, and Jan can do nothing but listen as her chest fills with fondness. 

*****

They spend the day together. 

Like they have spent each day before that. 

Midway through the afternoon Jan retreats to her room that exists more as a workplace for her than it does a haven anymore, and teaches the hour long vocal lesson she has scheduled with one of her clients. Before it she’s at Jackie’s side and afterwards she is too, mapping out their days from start to finish. They float up to the rooftop before the sun sets with the intention of doing yoga but Jackie spends the first ten minutes of it complimenting Jan’s voice, how she engages with her classes. 

Jan thanks her by placing a kiss to her shoulder and Jackie’s skin is warm under her lips. She lands another kiss on Jackie’s cheek, then, but Jackie shows more self control than Jan does. They move to focus on yoga for the next hour and a half and by the end of it Jan has worked up a sweat. The fabric of her tank top is stuck to her back, clinging to her skin, but Jackie still touches her as if she doesn’t care and praises Jan for the progress that she’s made. 

Jackie lays back onto her yoga mat, stretches her legs out in front of her. Jan stays sprawled on her stomach and turns her head to face Jackie. She smiles widely, breath still catching in her throat, and waits for her heart rate to return to normal. The sky turns from peach to lilac as her chest stops thudding and the hue of it reflects in Jackie’s eyes. They’re looking back at her with a warmth that mirrors that that’s lingering in the air and Jan props herself up onto her elbows. 

“Can we get takeout tonight?”. Jan proposes. 

“Sure-”. Jackie grins.

“-How about that Indian restaurant you like?”.

Jan groans happily, and the rumbling of her stomach agrees. Jackie laughs, begins pushing herself up into a seated position. Jan follows her but when she still hasn’t responded verbally Jackie cocks an eyebrow, smiles and asks the question again. This time, Jan nods her head, begins rolling up her yoga mat and gathering up her bottle of water, a hair tie that she’s left on the floor. 

“Fuck yeah”. 

*****

Jan’s able to count each time that she’s felt her relationship with Jackie shift ever so slightly. 

And it happens again as they finish their food. 

Jackie curls up on one corner of the couch, pulls Jan with her after they balance their empty plates on the coffee table. Jan tucks herself into Jackie’s side with Jackie’s arm slung around her shoulders, and Jan sinks into her, rests her head on her chest. Jackie’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that smells like vanilla and feels like silk, and it brushes soothingly against Jan’s cheek. Stroking her thumb across Jan’s upper arm, Jackie smiles down at her. The purple light of the tv reflects off of the whites of her teeth and Jan _loves her_. 

She’s _in_ love with her. 

“Everything ok?”. Jackie mumbles. 

She has her free hand resting on Jan’s stomach, having worked it beneath the hem of her shirt. Heat radiates off of her palm, and Jan feels the warmth travelling all of the way to her chest. She leans further into Jackie’s touch, further into her existence, and nods her head with a tentative smile. Jackie doesn’t look convinced and it’s why Jan chuckles, lifts a hand to cup Jackie’s jaw. Her fingers splay out across it, and then weave into the curls of hair at Jackie’s temples.

“I care about you so much”. Jan whispers. 

She doesn’t intend to say it, but most good things in Jan’s life have been unplanned. Jackie’s eyes widen briefly before they become soft again, and Jan looks back at her earnestly, with an openness that she savours. Crowding into her space, Jackie chuckles. It’s low in her throat, and Jan feels the vibrations of her chest pressed up against her own. She scratches her nails lightly across Jackie’s scalp, allows Jackie to exhale hotly into her palm. 

“Jan-”. She breathes. 

She’s pulling Jan closer. 

“-God, _Jan_ ”. 

Jackie’s lips connect with hers more tenderly than they ever have. They glide like butter, and Jan whines involuntarily into the kiss. Jackie is surrounding her in every way - her smell, her body, her touch - and Jan’s eyes fall easily shut. Jackie wraps both arms protectively around her waist, and then brackets them around her back. Her hands curl around her shoulders and is unable to pinpoint where she begins and where Jackie ends. 

Jan decides that it’s ok, because she doesn’t want to be apart from Jackie. Jan feels at her best with Jackie humming affirmatively, licking her way into her mouth. Her tongue ghosts across her bottom lip and Jan grants her entrance without thinking about it. Jackie’s teeth graze against it, and then her top one, and Jan is lost in how messily that they’re kissing, how free and uninhibited it is. 

Her desire is lovingly carnal. Wanting Jackie isn’t new to her, but the way that they’re kissing is. It doesn’t feel like any kiss that they’ve shared before, though they’ve had many that Jan’s in no rush to forget or replace any time soon. They’re moving against one another deliberately yet lazily, basking in each movement that makes every last one of Jan’s nerve endings awaken. 

They come to life in the same way that Jan breaks from her slumber each morning. It’s slow but certain, cautious yet contentedly, and Jackie holds her with the same care that Jan tries to convey in her own touches. She spreads them through the tendrils of Jackie’s hair, down to her neck and chest. Her skin is supple and flushed and they somehow haven’t had sex on the couch thus far but Jan thinks that there’s a first time for everything. 

She’s already fisting a hand in the cotton of Jackie’s shirt, mewling in a way that she hopes that Jackie recognises. It gives Jackie the go ahead to reposition them, and briefly bring the kiss to a halt. She lays Jan back onto the couch - as questionably comfortable as it is - and lowers herself over Jan’s body. The curtain of Jackie’s hair blocks out the navy blue of the rapidly fading sky and Jan is looking at Jackie as if she’s the sun. 

“Kiss me”. Jan breathes. 

Jan barely has time to recognise the nod that Jackie gives her. It’s rushed, a little uncoordinated, and their pace picks up. Their movements don’t stray from their adoring intentions, but a want coils in Jan’s gut and unravels as Jackie slots their legs together. Jackie’s thigh presses against her, only the thin fabric of Jan’s panties separating them. Jan whines as if she can’t get enough and Jackie pushes harder, lets Jan grind her hips upwards. 

“You’re so-”. Jackie trails off between kisses. 

“Not now”. Jan shakes her head. 

Jackie doesn’t question her.

They keep moving, bodies pressed flush together. It’s not unfamiliar for them but Jan notes that it still feels different. If the look upon Jackie’s face and the slight tremble in the hands is anything to go by then she’s experiencing the same flood of emotions, washing across her like a torrid tide. The feelings don’t waver as Jackie begins kissing across her jaw and down her neck, one arm propping herself up and the other trailing its way down the length of Jan’s body. 

She arches her back, bends her knees and rests her feet flat on the cushions of the couch. It feels as if Jackie’s hands are everywhere all at once, making goosebumps appear on her thighs and causing the muscles of her stomach to clench in anticipation. Jackie presses her palm flat over Jan’s pussy through her underwear, and Jan knows without Jackie telling her that she’s soaked through them. She’s been getting wetter since they’d first kissed and Jackie isn’t helping the situation by glancing down at her with hooded eyes. 

“Relax”. Jackie soothes. 

Jan thinks that it’s easier said than done. 

But she tries. 

And it’s worth it to have Jackie settle back on top of her, this time with her hand slipping under the fabric of her panties. She cups Jan softly, her thumb rubbing tactical circles around her clit. Jan loops her arms around Jackie’s shoulders and whimpers when Jackie’s fingers dip lower. Jan’s thighs shake with the pleasure that she’s overcome with, and she nods her head into the sliver of space between them. 

Her nose bumps up against Jackie’s, and they’re not so much kissing anymore as they are letting their lips brush occasionally, warm breath being shared. Jan keeps her eyes scrunched closed, afraid that if she opens them that the moment will break, tear into shreds. She only blinks them open as Jackie slips two fingers inside of her, and finds that Jackie’s own eyes are already shut. Jan watches her with bleary pupils, and bucks her hips as Jackie crooks her fingers. 

“Yes-”. Jan pants. 

“-Jackie”.

Her name holds so much weight. It hangs like lead in the air, but Jackie catches it, holds it with the same delicacy that she holds Jan with as she comes. She has one hand splayed across Jan’s cheek, and Jan bites down on the edge of her thumb. Jackie lets her do it even if it hurts - Jan suspects that it does - and keeps massaging Jan’s clit as she comes down from her high. 

Jan stays silent throughout, with the exception of quiet mewls and light moans that make Jackie smile against her lips. They kiss, deeply, and Jackie readjusts Jan’s panties carefully for her. Jackie drops herself to rest on both arms and the sky is black by the time that either of them attempt to speak. There aren’t words that Jan’s able to think of that feel suitable, because she’s never had to tell somebody that she loves them before and she didn’t think that the first would be someone like _Jackie_. 

“Well-”. Jackie snorts. 

She wipes at tears gathering in her eyes. 

“-I’ve never cried after sex before, and I didn’t think the first time would be on this couch but here we fucking are”. 

Jan lets herself laugh happily. 

“You’re a dream, Jacqueline”. 

They fall asleep in Jackie’s bed together later that night, and when Jackie whispers a sleepy _I love you_ , Jan whispers it back.

With certainty. 


	10. day one (but, a new one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jan’s parents love Jackie. 
> 
> And it doesn’t surprise Jan in the slightest. 
> 
> They arrive at the countryside house during the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and Jan’s mom makes a beeline for Jackie. She pulls her into an embrace as Jan stands next to her with her jaw slack, hand loosely gripping the handle of hers and Jackie’s shared suitcase. Jackie is tense at first but relaxes into it quickly and when she does, Jan watches the worry evaporate from her. Jan’s dad isn’t as tactile as her mom and he offers Jackie a fist bump which if anything, is more Jackie’s style. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I say too much here I'll probably cry because this has been such a journey, but all we can say is thank you guys so much for all of the love you've given this!! 
> 
> this is officially the longest thing ive ever written, while also being the quickest I've ever completed something which really is just a testament to how much I've loved it. 
> 
> I hope this wraps things up in a way that makes this universe feel whole. let us know your thoughts!<3

In the middle of autumn, things fall in line. 

Not into the same places that they once were in, but into new arrangements that when fused together, work. 

New York comes back to life in the same way that Jackie’s collection of perennial house plants do. It starts at the roots, slowly, with hope blooming in peoples chests. It then spreads to the branches of community and Jackie watches the petals flourish from the windows of her apartment, and eventually the streets below. The sidewalks become more crowded as September transitions seamlessly into October, and the days might be getting shorter but Jackie swears that they’ve never felt longer. 

And she likes it. Likes taking the crowded subway to the television studio where she works each day, watching commuters bustle around like she remembers. She also enjoys the days where she’s helicoptering around the set an hour after her shift was due to end, and then it already being dark outside by the time that she leaves the building. It happens one day in the middle of the month and Jackie’s feet are hurting, her spine aching, but then she gets to go home to the warmth of her bed and the comfort of her own space and -

\- _Jan_. 

The elevator up to their apartment has been broken for the better part of a week. Jackie is forced to take the stairs up to where they live on the fourth floor, and by the time that she gets there her suede court heels are digging blisters into the bones of her feet. She kicks them off, holds them in one hand as she unlocks the door with the other. Her satchel is slung across her left shoulder and she’s careful not to make the creak of the door any louder than it is by itself. 

Jan has an early call for one of her corporate function performances the following morning, and if Jackie’s learnt anything about her it’s that the chances of her fighting off exhaustion just to greet Jackie home with a kind smile and a kiss are high. She’s proven right when she steps into the apartment, drops her bag with the softest thud that she’s able to muster. Jackie slinks her Jacket off of her back, hooks it on the nails that they have hung next to the door as she looks over towards the couch. 

There, Jan is curled up beneath one of Jackie’s blankets. It’s white and crocheted, draped across her like the first snowstorm of winter, and she has her head resting in the palm of her hand. Her eyes are heavy, already sleep tainted, but her smile is soft and delicate and it’s all that Jackie focuses on as she crosses the room. The chill of the floorboards make her feet feel less like they’re on fire, as if her calves aren’t being torn to shreds with each step that she takes. 

She folds herself down onto the couch next to Jan, pays little mind to how her pristine slacks and shirt crumple as she does so. Jackie pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose - she’d opted not to put her contacts in when she had gotten ready that morning in order to give her eyes a break - and Jan peels back the blanket for her. Jackie slips under it, folds herself against Jan. She’s as warm as she always is and Jackie buries her toes into the fabric of the couch, hums as Jan’s fingers weave into her hair. 

“How was your day?”. Jan breathes. 

Her words smell fresh, like mint. Jackie recognises it from the spearmint toothpaste that Jan uses and the gum that she often chews. Jan’s skin is also glowing with moisturiser and Jackie knows that she’s already completed her nighttime routine. She lets a thumb glide across Jan’s cheek while she shrugs her shoulders, sinks further into Jan’s hold. 

“Good-”. Jackie smiles. 

“-Tiring. How was yours? How’s Nicky doing?”. 

Jackie knows that they’re both drained. Jan’s under eyes are a little darker than they usually are, and her words a little slower. Her movements are sluggish as she detangles a knot that she finds in Jackie’s hair, gentle fingers working through it. Jackie closes her eyes as the touches move to her back and Jan’s lips place a loving kiss to her forehead. Jan pulls away to look at her and Jackie has to pry her own eyes open to gaze back at her.

“You’re exhausted, Jacks”. 

“Mhm”.

She is, and Jan simpers empathetically. 

“C’mon, bed-”. Jan commands. 

“-We’ll catch up in the morning”. 

Jackie is too tired to argue, but when she falls asleep in her underwear minutes later, head resting on Jan’s chest, she realises there was no reason to fight it in the first place. The street lamps from outside douse the room in a warm amber, and the fabric of Jan’s shirt is amethyst. Jan whispers that she loves her as Jackie’s eyes are already closed once more, and Jackie whispers it back because she still hasn’t tired of hearing it and doubts she ever will. 

She tells her again, just for good measure, but Jan is already asleep. 

*****

Sometime towards the end of the month, Jan and Jackie both have the weekend free. 

It’s the first time since lockdown ended that it’s happened, and Jan spends the entirety of the week leading up to Friday with her body jittering in excitement. Nicky calls her out on it on more than one occasion but Jan doesn’t care. She adores her job - really, she does - but the prospect of crashing home early on a Friday night to see Jackie already flitting around their kitchen, fixing the dinner that she has promised fills her with a different kind of warmth. 

Nicky gives her a ride home as soon as the corporate event that they’d been working comes to an end, and she blasts the volume of the radio. Jan doesn’t recognise the song but she guesses that it doesn’t matter. She isn’t able to pay attention to anything other than Jackie’s texts lighting up her screen that are telling her that dinner is in the oven already, or how Nicky is side-eyeing her with pride. 

“What?”. Jan grins. 

“I never thought I’d see the day”. Nicky marvells. 

She signals right, and Jan begins to recognise the familiar streets of Hell’s kitchen. Nicky lives some way away in Union Square, but when she’d offered Jan a ride so that she’d be able to avoid rush hour on the subway, Jan had eagerly accepted. She knows the geography of New York better than Jan would have given her credit for and Jan doesn’t see her glance at the sat nav on her phone more than a handful of times. She’s confident with one hand on the wheel, the other gesticulating wildly. 

“Is that a read, Nicolette?”. Jan smirks.

“Maybe-”. Nicky laughs. 

“-I’m just saying, it’s nice seeing you happy like this”. She softens. 

Jan glances up from her phone screen at that, stops typing out her reply to Jackie. She’s minutes from being home anyway and she knows that Jackie doesn’t expect a response. Nicky keeps her attention on the road but peers at Jan out of the corner of her eye. There’s something telling behind them, and Jan has to shake it off because she still hasn’t made it to the point where she’s able to think about the love that she’s found with Jackie without being overwhelmed. 

Nicky seems to understand, and for that Jan is grateful. She takes a left, and then another right, and then they’re mere blocks away from her apartment. Jan lets out a deep breath that she’s been collecting in her chest and as Nicky parks her car, she turns to her with a smile and a hand on her shoulder. Nicky squeezes gently, then gives Jan a light shove. She points to the back seat where Jan’s bag has been thrown; a reminder not to forget it. 

“Please get out of my car-”. Nicky dramatises. 

“-Your nervous energy is making _me_ nervous”. 

She says it with a laugh. Jan knows that she means it lightheartedly and it’s why she chuckles along with her, shoves Nicky’s shoulder in return. Shaking her head, Jan reaches for her bag. She perches it on her lap before turning to Nicky once more, her bottom lip nestled between her teeth. Nicky is arching an eyebrow, mumbling a low _oh no_ , and Jan lets her face break out into a grin. 

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say!”. Jan barks. 

“I don’t need to! I know that look!”. Nicky cackles. 

Jan huffs, slouches in her seat. Nicky balances her elbow on her steering wheel and crosses her legs as she gets comfortable. Her body language is open, and it tells Jan that Nicky is willing to listen. She squeals her achievement, reaches out to excitedly grasp one of Nicky’s hands between both of her own. The radio in the background is still playing, only now it’s quieter, and Jan is able to make out the chords of a song that she vaguely recognises. 

“Ok, so-”. Jan starts. 

“-I have something to ask you and I need you to not kill me for giving you more notice but it’s like, a super last minute thing”. She elaborates. 

Nicky looks on pointedly, awaits an explanation. Jan toys with a way to phrase it that isn’t just _come and get drunk at my apartment with my girlfriend and her friend on Sunday_ but when she thinks about it, those are the exact words which Nicky’s most likely to agree to. She grins mischievously, drops Nicky’s hand in order to brush her own hair away from her face. It’s falling into her line of vision and Jan doesn’t know why she had thought it would be a good idea to wear her hair down all day. 

“Will you come over on Sunday?”. 

“Are we celebrating something?”. Nicky tilts her head. 

“Noo-”. Jan whines. 

Then she tries a more direct approach. 

“-I just want my girlfriend and my best friend to meet properly”. She tells her. 

Because so far, Jackie and Nicky have only met through pixelated facetime calls, as well as in passing when Jan has been running late for work and Nicky has picked her up. They get along like Jan had thought that they would but they’ve still yet to sit down together, drink their way through too many bottles of wine. In Jan’s opinion it’s the ultimate bonding experience and she tells Nicky that Jackie’s friend Chelsea will be there too.

“Come on Nic-”. Jan coaxes. 

“-Let’s just _not_ be responsible adults for one night?”. 

Nicky sighs then, and Jan knows that she’s convinced her. 

“Will there be wine?”.

“So much wine it’ll be pouring out of your eyes”. Jan promises. 

“That’s... disgusting”.

Nicky agrees to come anyway. 

*****

Jackie is drunk and Jan is pretty. 

She’s midway through her fifth glass of wine, or maybe it’s her sixth, and Jan looks radiant in the umber glow of the room. Jackie’s mouth tastes like red wine and it’s early on a Sunday evening, deep into October. She’s sitting opposite Chelsea and Nicky atop a sea of blankets and pillows that they’ve scattered across the floor of the living room. Jan is next to her, a hand resting absentmindedly on her knee, and Jackie feels light. 

They’ve pushed the coffee table to the edge of the room. It’s littered with bowls of snacks that range from chips to gummies in addition to their emptied bottles of wine. The tv has stayed switched, but Chelsea connects her phone to Jackie’s speaker and the room becomes filled with music. Nicky bops her head to the rhythm of it, and Jackie doesn’t miss it when Jan does the same. Jackie suddenly understands their friendship and laughs freely, takes a large swig from her glass.

“Wait wait wait-”. Nicky halts. 

“-I have an important question!”. She exclaims.

She’s still smiling, but Jackie stops laughing as much as she’s able to in order to listen to her. Jan doesn’t offer her the same grace, and instead buries her head in the crook of Jackie’s neck. Her giggles breeze across Jackie’s skin, and she’s able to smell the alcohol on her breath mixing with the apple of her shampoo, the lavender of her fabric softener that’s embedded in her clothes. She only lifts her head when Nicky whines about not being listened to, and attempts a feigned seriousness. 

“A question?”. Jan asks. 

“An important one!”. Chelsea raises. 

Nicky shares a look with Chelsea. It’s filled with humour, and Chelsea nods her head as she drains the last of her glass of wine. An empty bottle sits between her and Nicky, cushioned and propped up by a stack of pillows, and Nicky stares at it as if the lack of wine within it has personally offended her. Chelsea sets down her glass, but Nicky keeps swirling the dregs of her own around, peering over the rim of it. 

“Alright-”. Jackie snorts. 

“-What’s the question?”. 

There’s a short pause, and then Nicky smirks. 

“Do you have any more wine?”. She asks. 

Jackie watches as Jan’s jaw drops in disbelief. Her shoulders slacken, and Jackie has to purse her lips so that she doesn’t splutter out an unwelcome roar of laughter. Jan still looks ethereal even as she snorts inelegantly, flails her arms around herself. Nicky is still smirking and Chelsea looks as if she’s never been more pleased with herself. Jackie’s known her for years and even she’s only seen the same expression on a handful of occasions.

“Was that the question?!”. Jan squawks. 

Both Chelsea and Nicky timidly confirm that _yes_ , that was the question. 

“You’re both idiots-”. Jan grins. 

“-And I love you so fucking much”. 

Jackie tasks herself with retrieving another bottle of wine from their fridge. It hadn’t been a lie when they had said they’d stocked up, and there are still two bottles of white and one red waiting to be drunk. Jackie opts for white because the last one they’d opened had been red, and she knows that a bit of variety is needed. She places the bottle down onto the countertop, sets about cracking it open as she looks towards Jan, as well as Chelsea and Nicky talking amongst themselves in the living area. 

It makes her feel warm, as if she’s looking in on the moment from the outside. Jan has her head tilted back in a raucous laugh that Chelsea has pulled from her, and Nicky is lobbing a scatter cushion in the vague direction of the couch. Jackie has to smile at it as she frees the cork from the neck of the bottle, tosses it into the trash can. She walks back to the living area with the chilled bottle in hand, and sits back down next to Jan with a kiss to her cheek and a smile for the others. 

Because Jan loves them, but so does Jackie.

*****

At the beginning of November, Jan goes for brunch with Lagoona and Rosé.

It’s raining outside, as well as getting colder, and Jan pulls on one of her thicker sweaters with her jeans. Her sneakers are a little dampened from the puddles that litter the sidewalks but as she steps into the cafe, spots Rosé and Lagoona sat at a table in the far corner, the twenty minute walk becomes worth it. The weather had been fine when she’d left the apartment and she hadn’t anticipated needing to use the umbrella in her bag but Jan has had more surprising things happen to her. 

Including seeing that Rosé and Lagoona have their hands intertwined. 

Jan shakes the rain droplets off of her umbrella, closes it and sets it into the bucket made for such purposes at the door. Her hair is curling uncomfortably but she simply brushes it over her shoulders, uses the elastic that she keeps on her wrist in order to tie it into a low, scraggly bun. Rosé beckons her over with an excited wave and Jan walks closer to the table as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater. The cafe is inviting, filled with pottery, and Jan is engulfed by its welcoming nature as well as the tight hold of Lagoona’s arms. 

“Oh my god-”. Jan cries. 

“-I’ve missed you both so much”. She grins. 

Unlike herself and Nicky, Jan hasn’t stayed in contact with Rosé and Lagoona as much as she would have liked. It’s both of their faults, really - between never successfully organising facetime calls and Rosé’s inability to reply to a text within forty-eight hours - but Jan is unable to hold it against them. Lagoona is telling her how much she’s missed her too and Rosé is promising to get better at communicating but Jan has known her long enough to know that her efforts will be futile. 

It’s why Jan loves her, and Lagoona too. They’re as chaotic as they are charming, as crazy as they are supportive, and Jan doesn’t think their friendship would be the same if they were any more organised than they are. Jan pulls away from Lagoona’s embrace only to be pulled into another by Rosé. Lagoona is quick to join in with them and suddenly Jan is pressed between them both of them for the first time in months, all before eleven in the morning on a rainy Wednesday.

“We’ve missed you!”. Rosé exclaims. 

“We have _so_ much to catch up on”. Lagoona adds. 

Jan looks down at Rosé and Lagoona’s hands that have found their way to one another's once more and decides that yes, they have _a lot_ to catch up on. 

*****

As it turns out, Rosé and Lagoona didn’t make it through a week of lockdown before crashing back together. 

Like they always do. 

Rosé argues that it had taken them six days but Lagoona is adamant that it had been five, and from the blush that decorates Rosé’s cheeks Jan would be willing to place every cent that she owns on the latter. They eventually agree on somewhere between day five and six after one too many mimosas each - champagne ones, not vodka - and then Jan finds herself being the one that gets interrogated. 

Jan thinks that it’s a fair trade off. 

“Anyway-”. Lagoona drawls. 

“-I heard something about a roommate?”. 

“Jackie”. Jan corrects. 

Lagoona hums, bites into a biscuit. She’s calmer than Jan had thought she would be but Rosé makes up for it twice over. She squeals loudly, draws the attention of a table of thirty-somethings next to her, and glugs the half of her glass that’s remaining in one sip. It’s talent, Jan thinks, but then Rosé hiccups and she decides that maybe it isn’t. She sets the glass down with a soft clatter, begins waving her hands excitedly. 

“Did you fuck?”. Rosé deadpans. 

Jan groans aloud. 

“Of course they did”. Lagoona interjects. 

Jan’s fighting a war that she isn’t going to win, so she nods her head begrudgingly. She’s not ashamed of it, but admitting it does make her feel seen in a way that she doesn’t like. Rosé gasps melodramatically as if she didn’t already know the answer, and leans forward in her seat. She rests her elbows on the table, a hazy grin spreading across her face. Her fingernails tap rhythmically against her glass and it takes effort on Jan’s part not to throw what’s left of her own mimosa at her; lovingly, of course.

“How long did it take you?-”. She asks. 

“-A week? Two?”. 

“Over a month”. 

Jan tells her willingly this time. Rosé audibly screams, and Lagoona is left to try to quiet her. It doesn’t work because Rosé is Rosé, but Jan has missed her and she doesn’t care. Lagoona tops up all of their glasses, and Jan has necked back half of hers by the time that Rosé regains enough semblance to speak. She licks across her lips, reclines in her chair. Her hair is slowly drying off and the rain outside it coming to a halt, too. 

“Does that mean-”. 

“Yes-”. Jan beams. 

“-We’re dating”. 

Jan is slowly becoming more used to saying it, more used to basking in it. Lagoona looks just as excited at the confession as Rosé does and Jan chuckles as Lagoona leans forward in her chair in order to mirror Rosé. Jan feels like she’s having the same conversation that she’s had with Nicky all over again but she realises then that she wouldn’t mind having it another hundred times if it meant getting to gush about Jackie. She answers each question that they have for her and by the time that they're packing up to leave, Jan is blissfully tipsy. 

“So-”. Rosé questions, one last time before they depart. 

“-When’s the wedding?”. 

And Jan simply waves. 

“Someday”.

*****

December rolls around. 

And Jackie foolishly doesn’t see it coming. 

She’s too wrapped up in her work to notice that Christmas is less than a week away, and when Jan tells her that she’s performing at her last function until the new year, Jackie visibly blanches. The calendar on her phone tells her that it’s the nineteenth. Jackie has lost the beginning of the month to long hours at the tv studio, and even more time sending a horde of emails back and forth to the production team about the goings on on set. 

The logistics of it are rough around the edges. They have a handful of hours worth of footage left to shoot, and Jackie hadn’t so much as considered Christmas when her boss had told her she’d be working up until the twenty-second. Looking back on it, Jackie knows that she should have put more thought into it, because this year she has things to navigate around other than her work schedule and how many glasses of wine she can responsibly drink at night. 

This year, she has Jan. 

They have the apartment that they share, and the love that they’ve cultivated. They’ve gathered too many houseplants and candles along the way but it’s more than Jackie could have ever bargained for and it’s why she doesn’t complain. She doubts that she could even if she wanted to, because in Jan she sees the promise of more festive periods than she’s able to count. 

It’s why when Jan brings up the topic, relaxed and sweet as they make dinner together, Jackie doesn’t know how to respond. She’s stirring a pan of pasta on the stove as Jackie minces a clove of garlic, the tv playing reruns in the background. There’s also faint music playing from the stereo but Jackie tunes it out in favour of listening to how Jan hums along with it. She turns to Jackie, her face illuminated by the rainbow fairy lights that she’d hung at the beginning of the month when the holidays had first infiltrated the city. 

“What’re you doing next week?”. Jan queries. 

“Next week?”.

“Christmas, Jacks”. She laughs. 

And oh, _that_. 

“Right-”. Jackie nods. 

“-I knew that”. 

A part of Jackie had, but it would be a lie to say she hasn’t been subconsciously avoiding talking about it. It’s not that she doesn’t like the holidays - she actually adores them and all of the traditions that come along with them - but at twenty seven, Jackie knows that it doesn’t look great to have as unstable a relationship with her family unit as she does. She’s discussed it briefly with Jan, but never in depth. Jackie had thought it could be a conversation for later but it turns out that later is now. 

“Do you have any plans? Visiting family?”. Jan asks softly. 

Jackie’s relationship with her mother is at best, strained. Her father is the one she’d often turn to but this year he’s warned her of torrential snow in Canada that’s due to make flying impossible. Jackie had told him over a short phone call that the thought of paying the extortionate fee for a last minute ticket makes her want to hurl anyway, and she wouldn’t have accepted even if he were to offer to buy it for her. 

It’s how Jackie finds herself giving this year's plans any serious thought for the first time, all with Jan still smiling at her gently over her shoulder. She has her hip propped against the countertop, half of her attention still focused on the stove, and Jackie slides the chopping board with the minced garlic over to her. Jackie shrugs, and then shakes her head, walks to the sink to rinse off her hands. 

“Oh, no-”. Jackie grimaces. 

“-we, uh, don’t do all of that”. She chuckles. 

With the pasta cooked, Jan transfers it from the pan of boiling water to another where she’s able to combine the ingredients. She’d told Jackie that it was another of her family's recipes, something along the lines of a creamy pesto and mushroom sauce. Jan has added chicken to it but it smells incredible so Jackie doesn’t question her, and instead busies herself with pulling two plates from the cupboard, along with cutlery from a drawer. 

Jan just smiles reassuringly, as if she gets it. 

Because she does. 

“Nicky’s letting me borrow her car while she flies back to France for a couple of weeks, so I’m heading to Jersey-”. Jan laughs. 

She reaches out a hand to Jackie. 

“-Will you come with me?”. 

It’s a very _Jan_ way to bring up a proposition like that. Naturally and without a care, as if it’s easy. Jackie doesn’t share the same ability but she thinks that if she did then together they’d be too powerful. Jan still has her fingers weaved between Jackie’s as she stirs the pasta with her other hand, and she squeezes them when Jackie fails to respond. Jackie is too busy reading between the lines of what Jan has proposed, and what it would mean if she were to accept. 

“To Jersey?”. 

“Mhm”.

“To your family's home?”. 

“Yep”. Jan giggles. 

Jackie’s first instinct is to say no, because it isn’t her place. It’s her first instinct, but she knows that it isn’t the one she should trust, and so decisively, she doesn’t. Instead she trusts Jan, and the encouraging look that she’s giving her. She trusts Jan as she keeps talking while dishing their food onto plates, guiding Jackie towards the couch. Jackie even trusts her enough to say yes when the credits of the last episode run on the tv. 

“They like a small Christmas, I promise it wouldn’t be overwhelming-”. Jan says between two forkfuls. 

“-It would just be my mom and dad and my brothers and we could get cute matching pj’s and-”.

“I’ll come”. 

“ _What_?”. 

“I said yeah, I’ll come”. 

*****

Jan’s parents love Jackie. 

And it doesn’t surprise Jan in the slightest. 

They arrive at the countryside house during the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and Jan’s mom makes a beeline for Jackie. She pulls her into an embrace as Jan stands next to her with her jaw slack, hand loosely gripping the handle of hers and Jackie’s shared suitcase. Jackie is tense at first but relaxes into it quickly and when she does, Jan watches the worry evaporate from her. Jan’s dad isn’t as tactile as her mom and he offers Jackie a fist bump which if anything, is more Jackie’s style. 

The morning is spent settling into Jan’s childhood bedroom. The walls have been redecorated since she’d had them painted an obnoxious purple when she was a teenager, and are now a comforting shade of pale blue. There’s a king size bed in the centre of the room and Jan makes a point of sprawling across it dramatically. Jackie joins her, her inhibitions slowly dwindling, and they kiss softly until Jan’s mom tells them that her brothers have arrived. 

They too love Jackie. 

Charlie gets on with her especially well. He’s a film studies major, as bright and as energetic as Jan is. Jackie discusses cameras and lenses with him as they all gather in the kitchen to make gingerbread that evening, and promises to put him in contact with a production assistant that she’s recently worked for. He thanks her earnestly, and Jan’s heart is swelling out of her chest by the time that she tugs Jackie back to her bedroom hours later, having said goodnight to everybody. 

It’s there that Jackie kisses her deeply, and Jan can only hope that she feels as at home as she does.

*****

Jackie feels at home. 

And it’s startling. 

She’s wrapped up in Jan’s arms, in the bed that sits centre stage in her childhood bedroom. There’s a trail of clothes leading to the mattress, consisting of the matching pj’s that Jan hadn’t at all been joking about. They’re red and fleecy, patterned with candy canes, and it had been worth the teasing from Jan’s mom just to see the way that Jan’s face had lit up with both love and excitement as Jackie had emerged from the bathroom wearing them. 

Jan still has her fluffy socks pulled high up her ankles. She’s adamant that the temperature of the room is going to drop significantly overnight, and Jackie knows that she’s probably, definitely right. It’s why she keeps hers on too, and how she’s able to justify rubbing her feet up against Jan’s calves beneath the thickness of their duvet. Jan giggles against Jackie’s lips, and lets her arms drop so that their bare chests press up against each other. 

“Is it wrong to say I’ve never wanted you more?”. Jan breathes. 

There’s a pull in Jackie’s gut. 

“Jan-”. She warns. 

“-Not here”. 

Pouting, Jan grinds her hips lazily. Her thigh presses between Jackie’s legs, and Jackie can’t help but lean into it. Jan’s lips are already trailing the familiar pathway down her jaw and to her neck, traipsing the pathway to her collarbones. Jackie has her eyes fluttered shut, head tilted back into a sea of navy pillows and the fingers of one hand loosely woven in Jan’s hair. She tugs gently, coaxes Jan to look at her once more. There’s a depth behind her eyes and Jackie has never felt as understood. 

“Fuck-”. Jan pants. 

“-I love you, my family love you, you’re so _good_ , Jacks”.

Jackie exhales a shaky breath. 

Jan’s touches are already travelling lower. 

“Your parents are down the hall, we can’t-”. 

Jackie knows that her protests are going to be futile. Her words break off into a moan that Jan hushes, swallows down into a kiss. She bucks her hips involuntarily, and Jan smirks against her cheek as fingertips pad across the sensitive expanses of her inner thighs. Jackie is already wet, uncomfortably so, and Jan reminds her that the walls of the house are thick and that they’re far enough away from everybody not to be heard as she begins rubbing circles around Jackie’s clit. 

“Ok, yeah-”. Jackie huffs. 

“-Maybe we can”. 

*****

Jan wakes up early on Christmas morning, and fixes herself a cup of chamomile tea all before the first birds begin to chirp on the porch outside. 

Jackie remains sleeping throughout, only stirring briefly from her soft snores as Jan perches on the window ledge. The wood of it creaks, but Jan relaxes into it. She has her hands wrapped around the scalding mug, her shoulders draped in a knitted blanket and body clothed in a thinner robe. It falls to her thighs but Jan is comfortable, at ease, and she gets lost in the sight of the snow that keeps falling beyond the glass of the window, painting the ground white one droplet at a time. 

She loses track of how long she sits there. 

Her mug is drained halfway by the time that the sun rises fully. The sky goes from gleaming navy to glimmering silver, and faint strobes of light peak through the clouds. Jan watches them dance across particles of ice, and then get caught in the buried beds of flowers in the garden. It’s a calming sight - one that she’s missed, if she’s honest with herself - and she’s only pulled out of her trance like state by tender arms around her waist and lips kissing at her shoulder. 

_Jackie_. 

Jan doesn’t know when she had woken up, but the shock of Jackie’s touch quickly wears off. It’s replaced by a warmth, a familiarity, and Jan relaxes into Jackie’s arms. Jackie keeps peppering kisses to any patch of skin that she’s able to reach and it might tickle but Jan lets her do it, because she likes it. Her arms tighten around her waist and the heat of Jackie’s breath against her neck is greater than that of the mug still clutched tightly in the palms of her hands. 

“G’morning”. Jackie whispers. 

It’s then that Jan turns to face her. 

“Morning”. She beams. 

Jan places her forgotten mug down onto the windowsill next to her. It’s colder than she prefers to drink her tea, and it no longer seems important when she’s got Jackie there, in front of her, clothed in the same candy cane patterned pj’s from the night before. The sight of her could make the snow outside melt, Jan thinks, and she pulls Jackie into a kiss that tastes like family and festivities and love and maybe a little bit of morning breath. 

“Ready for today?”. Jan asks. 

Jackie only nods her head eagerly. 

“So _so_ ready”. She beams. 

And Jan thinks that she is too. 

**Author's Note:**

> we’re also on tumblr @ janhytes & velourpink!!


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